The Empty Canvas
by KKM
Summary: Au. Snamione. This story takes place 19 years after the final battle. Hermione is a teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry who has been noticing some rather strange things. What happens when the ghost of her long-dead professor comes back to haunt her? Will the school be able to survive yet another conflict with dark magic? And what of the empty canvas?
1. Prologue

**The Empty Canvas**

Written By: Keshia K. Mansell

The places and characters depicted in this story are expressly © J. K. Rowling.

* * *

 **Summary:**

 _Au. Snamione. This story takes place 19 years after the final battle. Hermione is a teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry who has been noticing some rather strange things. What happens when the ghost of her long-dead professor comes back to haunt her? Will the school be able to survive yet another conflict with dark magic? And what of the mystery of the empty canvas?_

* * *

 **Prologue: The Empty Canvas**

Not much had changed in the Headmistress' office at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After the school had been rebuilt from the wreckage of the final battle, Headmistress Minerva McGonagall had felt that it was only right to restore the room to how it had once been in honor of the late Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. She'd carefully removed the darkness and gloom that had taken over since the clever wizard's death.

It hadn't been an easy job at first. The room was in a particular state of neglect from when Headmaster Snape had been in charge there. She found herself learning more and more about her deeply troubled colleague the more she delved. She'd known Snape had never been a happy man to say the least. The life of a spy was a very hard life to live and he had been the only person she'd ever known to give himself so selflessly to that cause. Even she at the time had thought he was nothing but a traitor tempted by the Dark Arts. My, had they all been wrong.

There were dark artifacts in the office, of course. Those things had most likely been placed there to keep up appearances or maybe even to help guide him in his plans for the greater good. However, she could hardly understand what an enchanted music box would have had anything to do with it or even the odd assortment of deadly potions ingredients he'd kept hidden under the cabinet of the pensive. But she didn't question any of it, not that she would have been able to anyway. Instead she'd made sure to take all precautions in removing them from their hiding places and disposed of them quietly.

She was most startled when she'd began cleaning out the large desk that sat main-stage in the room. One of the drawers on the bottom left of the ancient mahogany had been sealed with a permanent sticking charm. It had taken her nearly two weeks to figure out how to open the drawer. She'd recited spell after charm after incantation and had almost lost hope when she'd finally resolved to looking in the restricted section of the library. When she had finally opened the damn thing, she'd had to be quick with her wand to battle a nasty jinx that had been placed to guard its contents.

When she was finally able to see what lay inside she'd nearly started sobbing in grief. A beautiful pair of emerald green eyes had blinked up at her from a smiling picture within. This picture appeared to have seen better days as it looked like it had been ripped away on one side where a man's elbow was just visible and something zooming by. Tears were brought to Minerva's eyes as she realized that Lilly looked just as she had, possibly months before she'd died. With shaky hands she picked up this picture to find others under it. These were much older and some had even been taken the muggle way, showing a beautiful redheaded girl smiling up at the camera. A couple, she wasn't surprised to see, even depicted a much younger Severus than she'd ever known.

Under the pictures lay two leather bound journals. One was brown and the other black. Minerva had treated these with great care as she examined them respectfully. The black journal was simple enough as it contained the most detailed notes that she'd ever seen on various potions and spells that he'd come up with or improved on his own. She'd wondered at first if she should possibly have the work published in his honor, but thought better of it. Severus had always been a very private person and she knew that he himself would have never allowed it. Setting that journal aside she'd next picked up the more inconspicuous looking brown journal. However, upon opening it she'd closed it almost immediately. This journal had appeared to be detailed meeting notes almost like a diary that held information regarding not only his Death Eater Meetings, but most likely his meetings with Professor Dumbledore. As curious as Minerva was, she felt that if she'd read these private thoughts and notes she'd not only probably learn more than she'd ever want to know, but she'd feel disrespectful in the process. She'd set the journal aside.

After that, the mood of the room seemed to change back to its formal glory. She'd carefully reconstructed all of the bazaar metal gizmos that had hung above the room reminding her greatly of a largely detail galaxy and restored all of the colorful banners and cloths that had decorated the room. One the side of the room containing the pensive, she dusted and had ridden the cupboards of doxies to replace them with lovely books on her favorite subjects. On the other side of the room she transfigured a gleaming case for the Sword of Gryffindor and a couple of other relics that had survived the war. Lastly, she'd constructed a nice bust where she'd placed the still scorched sorting hat with confidence.

Soon, only one thing was left to do – find a place to put Severus Snape's most prized possessions where they would be safe and never disturbed. She frowned and bit her lip as she glanced at the pictures, journals, and the vial she'd placed the memories Harry had left in the pensive when she'd went to clean it. Luckily, she knew she wouldn't have to turn any of it over to the school since upon trails Harry Potter had already cleared the Spy's name. These items were protected by the school now, wards of its triumph.

"Minerva…" A familiar voice had whispered knowingly to her. She'd glanced up to the wall behind her desk where the eyes of all the past Headmasters watched her appraisingly. Albus Dumbledore's portrait gazed at her through twinkling half-moon glasses with a sad smile before nodding to a portrait beside him that she'd never noticed before. Straightening her glasses, she furrowed her brows and stepped closer to the phenomenon with a look of bemusement on her face.

The portrait was the same size as all the others. It had a shiny ebony frame with gold gleaming around the trim. On the bottom of it was a small golden plaque that was inscribed ' _Severus T. Snape; Born 01/09/1960, Passed 05/02/1998; Headmaster Sept 1997-May 1998.'_ She squinted and read a quote that had been etched just under the information on the late professor. _'Loyalty and devotion lead to bravery and self-sacrifice in which creates trust that empowers love.'_ Knowing, that the somewhat sour professor would have never asked for that quote himself, she vaguely wondered if this had been something Dumbledore had planned to make for him for a long time.

Her eyes moved upward to inspect the canvas and she frowned at it in confusion. There were no dark eyes there to peer back at her own. There was no frown or sneer that would have normally accompanied his stressed, pale face. There wasn't even the slightest hint of greasy hair or a black billowing cape. In fact; there was no sign that Severus Snape had ever visited his portrait at all. The only thing that greeted her was a murky brown background with a Slytherin banner visible in what she assumed was supposed to be the background.

Baffled, she looked to the other portraits as if waiting for an answer as to how this could have possibly happened. None of them said a word. Even Dumbledore seemed to have lost the ability to speak as he stared at her imperiously. Giving a sigh of trepidation she picked up the items from her desk and prodded at the empty portrait with her wand. The castle seemed to understand her need as the frame swung forward to reveal a warded cubbyhole with small shelves inside. She carefully placed each item so that they wouldn't come to harm before unceremoniously closing the portrait with her lips pursed tightly.

She'd never given up on that portrait as the years had flown by. It had become an enigma to her. Each year students and teachers alike passed through her office and each year the portrait stayed vacant. Many scholars and magical portrait experts had come to view it at one time or another thinking that maybe they would be the lucky one to discover some sort of secret or clue. But each one failed more miserably than the last. There was one thing that all of them agreed on however; it all had something to do with soul magic. They all seemed to think that something might be intervening between the school and the magic that bound a soul to its portrait. But no one could say how or why it had happened.

Eventually, Minerva had to let the matter drop. Though she knew she'd always wonder about, she knew that it was her duty as Headmistress to worry about other things. And so, nineteen years passed in a flurry and the portrait remained nothing more than a mild curiosity to all those who viewed it.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello there! This story has been on my mind for a little while now so I hope you find it intriguing as I have many plans for it. This will be my first Snape/Hermione pairing, though I have dabbled in many other HP pairings over the years. Please enjoy and review!


	2. Chapter 1

**The Empty Canvas**

Written By: Keshia K. Mansell

The places and characters depicted in this story are expressly © J. K. Rowling.

* * *

 **Summary:**

 _Au. Snamione. This story takes place 19 years after the final battle. Hermione is a teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry who has been noticing some rather strange things. What happens when the ghost of her long-dead professor comes back to haunt her? Will the school be able to survive yet another conflict with dark magic? And what of the mystery of the empty canvas?_

* * *

 **Previously:**

 _She'd never given up on that portrait as the years had flown by. It had become an enigma to her. Each year students and teachers alike passed through her office and each year the portrait stayed vacant. Many scholars and magical portrait experts had come to view it at one time or another thinking that maybe they would be the lucky one to discover some sort of secret or clue. But each one failed more miserably than the last. There was one thing that all of them agreed on however; it all had something to do with soul magic. They all seemed to think that something might be intervening between the school and the magic that bound a soul to its portrait. But no one could say how or why it had happened._

 _Eventually, Minerva had to let the matter drop. Though she knew she'd always wonder about, she knew that it was her duty as Headmistress to worry about other things. And so, nineteen years passed in a flurry and the portrait remained nothing more than a mild curiosity to all those who viewed it._

* * *

 **Chapter 1: The Golden Woman**

Life after the war had not been as easy as Hermione Granger might have hoped. She had never been opposed to hard work of course, but still she'd dreamed of a future where she'd make leaps and bounds in Wizarding society. She'd been on the right track to start. As soon as Hogwarts re-opened its doors she had went back to study her seventh year and scored the highest N.E.W.T. scores that had been seen by the old school in nearly a century. It had been very stressful on her as very few people in her year had bothered to return at all. It was her first time away from Harry and Ron for as long as she could remember. They had decided to move on from school and pursue careers. She could not bring herself to follow the same path; education meant too much to her.

After Hogwarts, she took a year off for herself. In that time, she'd tried to rekindle some of the fire that had left her and Ron's relationship since she'd returned to school without him. This did not go as planned. A lot had changed since she had last saw him and he had grown lax in his ways. Though still good natured, his language remained more vulgar that she'd have liked and he had no manners to speak of. She could almost feel his disappointment when he seemed to realize that she would not be the caregiver his mother had been in the kitchen. He also had troubles adjusting to the vast knowledge she held in conversations. It wasn't a question on if he loved her or not, for he always would. He just simply could not keep up with her.

In the end, after six months they decided to part ways as lovers, but stay close friends. She used the rest of her year off to travel the world and explore what she might want to do with her life.

Her future aspirations were very conflicting. She very much wanted to still continue her projects like S.P.E.W. and advocate for the fair treatment of magical creatures. She also thought about maybe researching ways to help purebloods assimilate to healthier beliefs in equality for not only blood-status but gender too. But she had a great mistrust of the ministry even with her friend and fellow Order member Kingsley Shacklebolt as Minister for Magic. She just couldn't find it in herself to make a full-time career there. Instead, she dedicated her weekends to those causes that were important to her making them more of a noble hobby.

It was in Egypt that she suddenly had her epiphany. She'd been visiting a small Wizarding community outside of Cairo when she'd been invited to visit the great Pyramids by a group of local witches. She'd gladly accepted and they were able to explore the ancient ruins of Egyptian alchemy labs that were hidden deep within. They had explained to her that these areas had been carefully warded to prevent Muggles from finding them and she'd been astonished to find just how advanced the civilization really had been.

The locals had explained that ancient alchemists had built small chambers throughout the pyramids to filter the sunlight into pure solar energy that would pulse down to where they held their experiments almost like some sort of factory. Then they would come up with enchantments and inscribe them in hieroglyphics to effectively add extra components to the potions they were brewing themselves. One of the most popular potions used was called the _Amun Ra_ , named after the wizard who created it. The potion would actually make the drinker's skin turn into a glittering glow and they would be able to manipulate the energy currents surrounding them. She also found out that all of the known Egyptian Gods were really wizards who'd been using this potion to help make it easier for those who couldn't do magic trust them enough to rule over them. It was all very fascinating.

After leaving Egypt, Hermione had immediately researched where she could learn more about the effects of ancient runes paired with various potions. She found that it was a rare thing to learn, but was no less pleased when she'd found a mentor willing to teach her. The only problem was that she would have to relocate to Greece for the full eight year study. After a very long debate with her friends and family, she had decided to go ahead and indulge herself in the subject.

In that time, she only came back to visit England on holidays. Each time she came back, it seemed like something new was happening in her friends' lives. Harry had become a successful Auror and after a few years, finally settled down with Ginny. Hermione had been very excited for them over the years as their family steadily grew first with James, then with little Albus, and eventually sweet Lilly. She loved each child dearly and made sure to send them all gifts every birthday.

Watching Ron settle down had been much harder for her. He had landed a successful job in the ministry under the Department of Magical Games and Sports. While there, he'd met the love of his life, Carolina Deletrear. She had been Ludo Bagman's secretary at the time and was keen to discuss anything to do with sports and as an added bonus loved the idea of cooking big meals and having a big family. They married less than a year after meeting. Their first child Rose was born the same year as Albus and their youngest child Hugo was born a few years after that.

Once her education was completed in Greece, Hermione returned to England seeking Apprenticeship with the goal of raising herself from Journeywoman in Potions and Ancient ruins to Master. She found solstice in her old home of Hogwarts where a very willing Horace Slughorn took her on. Slughorn very much wanted to retire again and had jumped at the chance to train her to the best of his abilities and to sculpt her already excelling talents.

Even better, when she returned to Hogwarts she was pleasantly surprised to run into her old friend Neville who was also at Hogwarts seeking apprenticeship and had recently gotten married to Luna Lovegood. She spent many lunches and breaks catching up with her old friend as the reminisced about the golden days together and talked animatedly about all of the things they'd seen and done after the war. They had easily become close friends and she would often go to him for advice about certain plants she wanted to experiment with in her potions while he in turn would ask her advice on the various working of his life.

Finally after 4 years of apprenticeship under Professor Slughorn, Hermione had not only become a Master under her craft but had also been offered the plump man's job. By that time, Neville had already succeeded Professor Sprout's position and was very supportive of her decision to take on the role of Hogwarts' Potions Mistress. She'd finally accomplished all that she wanted.

The only thing lacking it seemed was her social life. Yes she still visited and talked to her old best friends regularly and yes she had found a good friend in Neville, but they all also seemed to have something she didn't – a family.

It had now been nineteen years since the end of the war and Hermione was 38 years old with an excellent education, career, and reputation. Sure, she didn't have her own lover or family, but she still looked very nice for her age all things considering. She would just need to be patient.

She was Hermione Granger; no longer the Golden Girl, but the Golden Woman.

* * *

 **A/N:** This chapter is honestly also kind of like a second part to the prologue in a way. I wanted to take some time to describe Hermione's life since the war, plus I wanted it to be clear why Rose is still in existence and that kind of thing. If you're doing the math, this story starts in the year of the Epilogue in the last book 2017. I figured this was the best way to kind of give you a fast forward. The next chapter will be the start of the actual story in real time. I hope you liked it!


	3. Chapter 2

**The Empty Canvas**

Written By: Keshia K. Mansell

The places and characters depicted in this story are expressly © J. K. Rowling.

* * *

 **Comments:**

 _ **Worrywart:**_ _Thank you for your comments! I am ecstatic that you've enjoyed my story so far and I will definitely keep writing. To answer your question, though Hermione's 8 year time abroad studying was to become a Journeywoman in both Potions and Ancient Runes she only became a Master in Potions. The potions part is really what I feel her main focus would be and the Ancient Runes portion would mostly be for her to help amplify and experiment with a new array of potions that would not have been possible with only potions knowledge. I hope that helps you understand a little better. Let me know if I can clarify further._

 _ **Hwyla:**_ _My goodness! Thank you so much not only for the long comment, but also for the very helpful PM you sent me. I tried very hard to put a lot of thought into how Hermione could end up in whatever career she chose because she is such a deep thinker. I'm also flattered that you felt my background was more likely than what happened in cannon. I really enjoyed writing the piece on Egypt because when I was younger I really loved reading about Egyptian Mythology and have always had a great respect for it. The idea behind the great pyramids using solar energy is actually a very popular conspiracy theory that I thought would be fun to include in my story. As for Ron and Carolina, I left their children's names the same because I honestly always thought they were kind of a peculiar selection. Where I live, Hugo and Rose are very Spanish names so I thought it'd make sense to keep them the same and give them a mother whose name is of Spanish decent. Also, I know you mentioned it in your PM, but I wanted to go ahead and answer here in case someone else has the same question. The bust that Professor McGonagall put the hat on is just a plain white faceless bust. The reason I don't want it to be the founder specifically is because I feel that as Headmistress, it is her duty to try and have as little bias towards the other houses as possible which would be hard for her considering she used to be head of Gryffindor. The sword however is a relic that was used to defeat Voldemort, so I feel that it's perfectly acceptable for her to display it in honor. I also tried to hint that there were other relics in the office as well, though I didn't feel it was important to the story to describe them. Thanks again!_

* * *

 **Previously:**

 _It had now been nineteen years since the end of the war and Hermione was 38 years old with an excellent education, career, and reputation. Sure, she didn't have her own lover or family, but she still looked very nice for her age all things considering. She would just need to be patient._

 _She was Hermione Granger; no longer the Golden Girl, but the Golden Woman._

* * *

 **Chapter 2: The Intruder's Lair**

Hermione bit her lip anxiously as she paced around the empty classroom counting and re-counting the supplies she'd left out for her classes scheduled in just two days. Tomorrow night new and old students alike would be returning through the ancient halls ready to quench their thirsts for knowledge and she needed to make sure everything would be perfect for her lesson plans to go smoothly. She'd already counted how many cauldrons would be needed for each class and had carefully separated the perfect amounts of ingredients before labeling them with each grade level that would need them. On her desk, sat a large thick mound of papers that contained the entire semester's syllabuses as well as carefully planned assignments that she hoped would really inspire the youngsters.

"Yes, yes." She mumbled to herself, tapping her wand against her cheek as she paused in front of the blackboard, carefully re-reading her no-doubt already perfected instructions. Suddenly she gave a frustrated huff and turned around again, her wild hair flicking behind her like a bushy whip. "Oh, I just know I'm forgetting something," she grumbled to herself. It was the same thing she said every year and yet, she couldn't help herself. She'd always strived for everything to be perfectly planned and this year would be no different. "I just know I'll figure it out. But what could it b- Oh!" She jumped back quickly at the sound of an angry hiss and something large and ginger darted past her in a blur.

"Oh, no," she crooned as she held out her dark purple robes to the side so she could comfortably kneel down to her affronted familiar. "Crookshanks, you old thing, I'm sorry," she gave a soft laugh as she reached under the small shelf he was hiding under and scooped him up to get a good look at him. Hermione had been delighted to find that half-kneezles lived much longer than normal cats. Her furry friend had to be at least 23 years old now, but was still just as sly as he'd always been. The only signs of his true age was that his fur was a much lighter ginger know that became easily matted and sometimes when he tried to meow it came out as more of a croak, but she loved him all the same.

She brought him up to eye level and he gave her a haughty if not affectionate nuzzle against her check making her giggle. She gave him a kiss on his head before setting him down again and standing up straight. "I think I ought to take a break," she mused before pulling a treat out of her pocket and tossing it at him. "I'm over thinking things again… but I can't help it!" she admitted in an anxious voice. "This will be Albus and Rose's first year, Crooks. I want them to _like_ my subject."

The ginger feline gave her a rueful meow when she sat him down and flicked his tail back and forth as she spoke. After a moment, he seemed to realize that he would not be receiving a second treat and turned away from her sharply as if to snub her. Hermione simply shook her head at the old thing and rolled her eyes.

"Well," she said to herself tapping her chin with her wand absently, "it's pretty late now, so the Great Hall won't be open. Maybe a walk would do. The grounds are quite lovely this time of night," she said, smiling to herself as she glanced at the walls of the dungeons. Since taking over, she'd changed several things around to try and make the place cheerier. One of her favorite changes was that she had transfigured the back walls of the spacious classroom to appear to have windows that looked over the grounds. She'd done the same thing to her personal rooms as well and it really seemed to work wonders on her student's moral. Now instead of entering the darkness that had always seemed to envelope them, there was a calming glow about the room. The only time she ever undid the enchantment was when she had them all working on light-sensitive potions.

The enchanted windows worked very similar to how the ceiling of the Great Hall reacted. If it was stormy and cloudy out, the windows would even appear to be splatted with cool droplets of water. Tonight, the window was showing clear skies with a brilliant array of stars that seemed to almost swirl above the backdrop that contained the glittering black lake to the left and the lovely grounds to the right that faded into the Forbidden Forrest.

Still smiling, she made her decision and exited the dungeons.

Once she was outside, she found herself on the familiar path that would take her toward the lake. She'd always loved looking out over the waters by the large maple she'd claimed as her own back when she'd attended as a student. On some nights she would see the great squid bobbing along and unfurling his large tentacles just above the surface. Her favorite nights, however were when the Merpeople would begin to sing in the dead of the night. She'd never known anything more relaxing in her life.

Once she reached her favorite tree, she swished her robes out of the way once again and sat with her back resting against the familiar trunk. Once she was comfortable, she picked up a nearby rock and transfigured it into a small mason jar so that she could use it as a light holder and conjured soft blue flames to flicker within it so she wouldn't be in total darkness. Satisfied with her work, she set the jar aside and stared quietly across the rippling waters.

Tonight, she saw no signs of the giant squid. All was motionless besides the slowly rolling tides and the occasional fire fly twinkling in the distance. She breathed in a large gulp of fresh air before slowly expelling it and she listened closely for any signs of her beloved Merpeople or any of the other beautiful creatures in the forest. She waited like that for a long time until she was finally rewarded.

Directly across from her on the other side of the lake she saw a softly glowing form exit the forest from deep within. She squinted a little, allowing her eyes to adjust before gasping quietly at her luck as she realized it was a baby unicorn. She watched as the young foal as it paused and looked behind it as another, much larger form joined it. Together, what appeared to be mother and child majestically strode forward before the mother gently nudge her young one and they began to timidly drink from the lake.

Hermione watched the two in fascinated awe. As many times as she'd been here at night, she'd never been able to see something so rare as this. The unicorn hardly ever came out in the open like this. In fact, the last time she'd seen one this close it had been slain in the forest by the late Lord Voldemort.

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind, something had spooked the unicorns. She heard a startled whinny as the mother unicorn's head jerked up from the water in warning and the two dashed away deep into the depths from which they'd came. Hermione glanced over toward the far end of the lake and was startled to see why the pair had suddenly made their exit. There was a silhouette of a person standing at the edge in a rigid position with their wand arm outstretched. Hermione's brows furrowed in confusion. No one besides her ever ventured out this late and especially not anywhere near that part of the grounds unless they wanted to be attacked by the whomping willow.

She pursed her lips and slowly waved her hand over the jar containing the flame making it sizzle out silently. The figure had apparently not noticed her at all. She watched as the person lowered their wand and turned away from the lake heading in the direction of the famous tree she knew would not be far away. She cautiously stood and thought about striding back up to the castle to have someone help escort her, but she knew that if she did that her quarry might get away. Making a quick decision, she cast a quick patronus in the direction of the green houses and then began to stealthily trek between trees to trail the mysterious visitor.

It had taken her nearly ten minutes to reach the whomping willow. But when she did, she knew something was amiss. She frowned as she looked up expecting to see sawing branches. Instead, they were frigid and still. Not a single branch was twitching and not a single root groaned. She was about to creep forward, when she thought she'd heard a twig snap nearby. She held still, barely breathing as she waited for more sounds. Nothing else moved.

Holding her wand firmly in her hand, she swallowed thickly and quietly darted forward, using her other hand to insure that her robs would not cause anything to shuffle beneath her. As she'd suspected, the tree had already been stunned and did not attack her. She quietly eased herself into a small man-made hole at the base of the tree and dropped down carefully into the pitch black passage she hadn't visited in years. She didn't dare move forward just yet. Licking her lips she cast a quick _homenum revelio._

After a few minutes when nothing had been revealed, she quietly traveled down the passage. " _Lumos_ ," she whispered, lighting her way. It wasn't long before she was crawling up through the rotting floorboards of the Shrieking Shack. A shiver made its way down her spine as she thought of the last time she'd been in the dreary place. Almost instinctively as she entered the main room, her eyes darted to the place where she and her friends had watched helplessly as Severus Snape had been murdered by the Dark Lord and his disgusting snake Nagini. The hair on the back of her neck seemed to stand on end as she realized that to this day there were still horrible dark spots in that area stained into the wood where the man had bled out. Shuddering at the unpleasant memory, she forced herself to look away.

Someone had been there recently; of that she was certain. The dust had been disturbed near the fireplace and she could tell that someone had risked lighting a small fire in the hearth were fresh scorch marks and stones littered the bottom. Walking forward, she waved her wand over a small table that looked like it had been knocked over recently. A small assortment of tarnished knuts and galleons lay stacking a corner nearby. She let out a silent gasp of air as she stumbled, accidently kicking away the small stone that had almost caused her to fall. She cursed quietly and was about to move forward when she heard a creaking coming from outside.

Hermione froze, biting her lip hard to prevent herself from moving any further. She knew that just outside the boarded up window was a small deck that students would climb up to try and catch a sneak peak of whatever was rumored to haunt it this days. Whoever was out there now was definitely not a student. Against her better judgement, she slowly crept forward, keeping her wand at the ready. Then, taking a deep breath she approached one of the many broken boards that warded the windows and peaked out.

Two sunken and horrible looking bloodshot eyes stared back at her.

Hermione let out a startled scream as she lurched back from the window forcibly and raised her wand. " _REPAIRO!_ " she shouted the first thing that came to mind. She knew that this hovel of a shack was protected from outsiders that would try to break in from Hogsmeade and it would be much better than if she were to blast out the front door and make herself a huge target. The spell came out much stronger than she had meant, however and the shack jolted violently as years of neglect began to rebuild itself. Hermione didn't think twice as she ran from the room and dived into the hole that lead to the underground passageway.

She was nearly out of breath when she climbed out of the other side. She didn't have time to catch it however when a curse soared at her, narrowly missing her by a hair and crashing into the tree with a large crack! " _Protego!_ " Hermione shouted as she dashed from the trunk, snagging her once lovely robs on the mangled branches below her. _"Stupify!"_ she grunted after dodging another spell from the unknown assailant. She could barely make out where they were coming from or if there was more than one person. How was it even possible for them to have made it all the way from Hogsmeade to here in so little time!?

Suddenly the ground began to tremble all around her and she fell over as something hard struck her from behind. "NO!" she shouted out in surprise as she realized the tree must be waking up. She could hear angry shouts in the distance, but had no time to wonder if they had come from friend or foe as she rolled out of the way and a large root came smashing down to the exact spot she'd been seconds before. More and more branches whipped mercilessly toward her. She could feel sharp cuts and gashes against her legs and arms and something warm was trickling down her cheek, but she did not dare stop moving until she was out of danger.

A large flash of light zoomed to the side of her and the tree came to a sudden halt. She stumbled away from it trembling as someone grabbed her from behind and she tried to wrench herself away with a shout. "Hermione, it's me!" A familiar male voice tried frantically to reason with her as they struggled. "Look at me," he said, spinning her around to face him. "You're safe, I've got you," Neville's concerned face came into view as he held her tight, then looked out over the now quiet grounds in bewilderment.

Realizing she was no longer in danger, she hugged her friend tightly having a hard time trying to calm down. "It's okay," he promised, patting her on the back as he carefully maneuvered her in the direction of Hogwarts. "Let's get you to the hospital wing-" she cut him off, shaking her head as she tried to regain her breathing. "Okay, to the Headmistress then…" He sighed, and began to lead his friend away.

Unbeknownst to anyone, back in the outskirts of Hogsmeade the insides of the Shrieking Shack began to glow sending tendrils of light out into the calm of the night.

* * *

 **A/N:** Okay, so I know one of the first things that someone will ask, is why Hermione didn't kick the intruder's ass? There are a couple of reasons for that. It's been 19 years since the war and since she'd been more career and study inclined, her reflexes would be pretty rusty. I mean no, she's not helpless but I feel that her reactions are more because she was startled than anything. Also, in my opinion, certain wards had probably survived all of these years to keep people away from the shack because of its intended purpose. While I know some spells stopped working when Dumbledore passed, I'd like to think that his magic would be strong enough to at least give residual protection from how long the wards had been there previously. Please let me know what you think. The next chapter will have Snape!


	4. Chapter 3

**The Empty Canvas**

Written By: Keshia K. Mansell

The places and characters depicted in this story are expressly © J. K. Rowling.

* * *

 **Previously:**

 _Realizing she was no longer in danger, she hugged her friend tightly having a hard time trying to calm down. "It's okay," he promised, patting her on the back as he carefully maneuvered her in the direction of Hogwarts. "Let's get you to the hospital wing-" she cut him off, shaking her head as she tried to regain her breathing. "Okay, to the Headmistress then…" He sighed, and began to lead his friend away._

 _Unbeknownst to anyone, back in the outskirts of Hogsmeade the insides of the Shrieking Shack began to glow._

* * *

 **Chapter 3:**

 _Something was wrong._

That was the first coherent thought that came to Severus Snape's mind as his eyes suddenly opened and he frowned into the darkness that was enveloping him like a thick winter cloak. He shifted slightly allowing himself to rest more comfortably against the hard, unforgiving wall behind him as the distinct smell of must and wood rot greeted his perhaps well-pronounced nose. A cold chill seemed to run through his veins and he found himself twitching every now and then as an odd tingling sensation seemed to spread throughout his body. He could almost feel the heaviness of the dark bags that no-doubt hung under his tired obsidian eyes. It was almost as if he was waking from a coma or some fitful, unnaturally long sleep.

And yet, for some reason being awake brought him no comfort. Something deep within the weary confines of his mind told him that this phenomenon must be some sort of mistake; some sort of trick.

Alert as always, his face betrayed no emotions as he waited for his eyes to adjust to his dark surroundings. After a few moments, things appeared much clearer around him. His eyes flickered back and forth taking in the splintered floor boards along with the bland wooden walls. A mouse scurried across the floor with something clutched in its tiny paws as it disappeared behind an abandoned chair that lay on its side near the far wall. The odd sensation of residual magic clung heavily in the air mixing with the putrid signs of decay and neglect that oozed from every pore of the shabby dwelling.

The Shrieking Shack. His mind supplied the answer almost automatically and his lip curled in automatic disgust at the thought. But how did he get here?

Deciding that staying on the cold, unwelcoming floor would get him nowhere he attempted to coax his body into movement. This seemed to be easier said than done however as his body felt impossibly heavier than he remembered. Suddenly his impassive face betrayed him as he grimaced and let out a hiss of pain. His hand shot up to his neck and he grimaced feeling a horrible aching there along with something cold and wet. Pulling his hand away from his neck he was shocked to see that not only was it covered with some sort of shimmering silvery substance, but it was completely see through and glowing.

 _"No…."_ a feral, raspy voice escaped his dry lips.

He looked out into the room and suddenly found that he was no longer alone. Something akin to his heart-rate began to thump wildly in his chest as he schooled his features to stay neutral as he stared evil right in the eyes. His pain had seemed to trigger some sort of vision before his very eyes. It was the only viable explanation he could concoct for what he saw. Voldemort now stood before him with the hint of a cruel smile shining in his demonic red orbs. Nagini, the large serpent was writhing with an unmistakable look of hunger as she hovered next to her master encased in a foul ball of dark energy. _"You have ssserved your purpose well, Sssseverusss."_ The horrible hissing voice was playing through his mind as he stared at the apparition with impending doom.

"No, this can't be…" he whispered to himself as he looked from his eerily glowing stained hands to the monstrosities before him. He didn't even have time to react as he was suddenly attacked feeling his throat being practically ripped away from him. He could no longer remain passive as a horrified scream echoed through the room and he was forced to relive the torture of it all. He could feel a sickeningly wet trickle flowing down his neck and soaking into his robes. He painfully coughed up spurts of his own blood as he choked and sputtered. His fingernails scratched at his marred skin aggressively as he felt the deathly venom pumping through his body. All the while the room had filled with the gruesome laughter of a madman. It was all so much for his throbbing mind to take in.

Just as quickly as it had come, the maniacal laughter faded suddenly and though he still was still drowning in his own fluids an odd peace fell over him. Beautiful green eyes flooded his vision. Those eyes were the last thing he could remember seeing. They were the last thing he would ever want to see. It was the painfully beautiful reminder of why he'd gone through everything he had in his life. Everything for his Lily. _Always_.

He blinked a few times as the foggy reenactment his mind had forced him through faded and like everything else, the beautiful green eyes disappeared into nothingness.

 _"NO!"_ he repeated again, this time much more forcefully as he wrenched himself up from the floor with a terrible hatred burning in his unnaturally dark eyes. His translucent light blue aura seemed to morph into an alarming bright red as he suddenly lost all control in an explosion of uncontrolled magic. Old chairs and pieces of furniture flung from his surroundings and crashing into the nearby walls with a deafening bang before breaking into tiny pieces littering the floor around him.

This was not how it was supposed to happen! He had already fulfilled his duties as a loyal spy. He had given the Potter boy all of his memories hadn't he? Was it too much to ask for him to die in peace and be done with it? What could possibly have dared to tie him back to this plane of existence? Did he not have any choice in the matter at all?

Lily. He had done everything he was asked to do for Lily. Her jeweled emerald eyes reflected in her son's had made him ready to accept his fate; a fate he knew he'd been most likely doomed from the start. Had he still not given up enough for forgiveness? Was he still so undeserving?

The red energy very slowly faded back to the eerie light blue as he scowled and looked down at himself again in disgust. He wasn't even sure how long he'd been like this… a ghost. It all felt wrong. He knew that given the choice he'd never have chosen this and he was disappointed with the idea that he may have to roam the world forever instead of moving _on._ His soul was so very tired as it was.

"I won't stand for this," he intoned deeply to no one in particular as he looked over his surroundings again. _Something_ was keeping him anchored here and he would find out exactly what it was. He would start by finding the source of the residual magic. It was much different than the magic that had been in the air when he'd died. There was no doubt in his mind about that. This was much more pure; protecting even. Yes, he would follow this magical presence and when he found whom it belonged to he would demand answers.

Without another word, he turned and headed down through the underground tunnel that would lead him to Hogwarts with his cape billowing menacingly in his wake.

Hermione was gnawing on her lower lip nervously as she waited for Professor McGonagall to return to the office. She had been gone twenty minutes now and it as making Hermione anxious. Neville had gone with her, so she assumed the two were discussing the disheveled state she'd been found in. Meanwhile, Hermione had taken it upon herself to rub her own healing salves along her lacerated arms and legs causing her injuries to begin to fade into nasty yellowing bruises.

She was pleased to note how quickly the headmistress had reacted once she recounted everything she could about what had happened in the Shrieking shack. She'd witnessed as the older woman had sent out several patronus charms to the other teachers informing them of the possible intruder. But there was one underlying factor that bothered her about the whole thing. Though Minerva had tried to hide it well, Hermione could not help but feel betrayed by the small seconds in which she'd seen a trickle of doubt in the other woman's eyes. It had been quick, but there all the same.

Hermione was not accustomed to people doubting her.

She shivered slightly as she pushed the salve away from her and glanced around the room wearily. She'd been here several times of course, but she couldn't help but always feel awkward about it. It all came down to the wall of past Headmasters. They always seemed to be staring at her with such intensity that she felt like they were scrutinizing her every movement. Only three of the great portraits seemed to cut her a break and those were the scowling but witty canvas containing Phineas Black, the all-knowing and always smiling Albus Dumbledore, and of course the mercifully empty canvas of Severus Snape. These were the only three painting that she ever felt comfortable staring at for longer than five seconds.

Trying to recompose herself, Hermione glanced between the three portraits curiously. Phineas Black, it appeared, must be currently visiting his other portrait which was located at the once Black and now Potter residence at Grimmwauld Place. Albus Dumbledore appeared to be sleeping in his portrait. Hermione smiled vaguely as she noticed a couple candies that appeared to be stuck in his beard and a little bubble that seemed to grow under his nose with each snore. Lastly, her eyes traveled to the faithfully empty portrait. She knew it would always be empty of course, but she'd always wondered if Severus Snape could be just as intimidating on canvas as he had been in real life. It was really too bad that no one seemed to know what was wrong with the portrait, though if she had to guess she'd think he most likely just didn't see a reason to come. Professor Snape had always been a loner like that.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the Headmistress returned to the room and sat down at her desk across from her with a sigh. She gave Hermione a careful look that made the younger woman frown as it reminded her greatly of times when she'd been a mere school girl about to receive unpleasant news.

"Professor Granger," Minerva started, then cleared her throat and allowed her eyes to soften as she tried again. " _Hermione_. I've just finished talking with Professor Longbottom who told me everything he saw from the time he received your patronus message leading up to when he found you. He was unable to confirm seeing an intruder, but does believe that there was definitely something of interest going on." She paused, but when she saw that Hermione looked like she was about to interrupt, she spoke again. "I have warned all of the other professors and so far there have been no other sightings. I also contacted Aberforth to warn the people in Hogsmeade in case anyone sees anything unusual. So far no one has," she said gently as she watched Hermione deflate slightly in her chair.

"But, you do believe me don't you?" Hermione asked with a frown, not liking where this was going.

"I believe you saw _something_ ," Minerva responded after a moment of brief silence. "But you have to understand that it is difficult to believe that someone has broken into the grounds. I won't insult your intelligence by describing the wards we have in place. I know you know them all by heart. But you must realize that if someone had truly entered the grounds uninvited, we would have known immediately…" she trailed off.

"I know what I saw," Hermione stated passionately as she sat up straighter in her chair. "I definitely saw a _person's_ eyes in the window and someone tried to curse me near the whomping willow!" she insisted, her voice rising an octave or so.

"Miss Granger, isn't it possible that the eyes you saw might have just been an animal's? Think child," she said, perhaps a bit more sharper than she'd meant, "How would it be possible for someone to travel that fast from the outside of the shack to just beyond that tree without using a passageway? It simply cannot happen," she pursed her lips with finality.

Hermione sighed in disappointment and shook her head. She only looked up when she found a comforting hand placed on her shoulder and looked up to the older woman's now sympathizing face. "I get it, I know what it feels like to constantly check and recheck my work to insure a successful year and I know that you have worked very hard to make it where you are, but maybe you should take it easy before the students arrive. You're probably just overdoing yourself. Take a load off and read a book from the library. I'm sure I can pull some strings and get Madam Pince to allow you to view some from her private stock."

At these words, Hermione's cheeks reddened and she looked away almost embarrassed. Minerva's eyebrow rose in suspicion. "Don't tell me you've already read every book in the library? Even the restricted section?"

Hermione nodded slowly with a strangely proud smile on her tired face. "All of them that would open without screaming anyway," she said with a small snort. "Madam Pince let me view her private selections a few years ago," she admitted and then she watched curiously as Minerva stood and began to pace behind her desk.

Minerva only stopped her pondering motions as a particularly loud snore from Professor Dumbledore's portrait caught her attention. She paused and gazed at the painting suspiciously as the wise old man feigning sleep seemed to be leaning all the way over to the side, his pointy hat turned innocently in the direction of the abandoned canvas beside him like an unnecessarily large arrow. She arched an eyebrow at the less than sneaky approach the rolled her eyes as she approached the wall.

"I think I have a valid solution," she said quietly before looking back at the now very curious younger witch. Then she looked away again and nodded to herself as she gently touched her fingers against the soft oil canvas. The old magic of the castle seemed to ripple in recognition as the frame opened to reveal the cubby hole that was filled with the various belongings she had placed in it long ago. Her hands trailed over a few of the items as she contemplated her choices. It ghosted over the brown journal, but didn't stop. She would not allow anyone to see that journal as she felt it would have been disrespectful to Severus' memory. He wouldn't have wanted anyone to read that. But when her hand hovered over the black journal, she gently grasped it with conviction and removed it from its resting place. As if the castle knew her will, the portrait closed and she turned back to her former student and now colleague with a serious look on her face.

"Miss Granger," she addressed, the more professional tone feeling more natural to her cause, "this journal once belonged to Professor Snape. I found this after the war when I had the dubious task of picking up this very office. I don't not believe he had any intentions of ever letting anyone see this notebook or any of his private notes," she admitted as she took in the other woman's look of surprise. "However, you have proven yourself a loyal student and teacher; a master of your craft. Had he been alive, you most likely would have trained under him in apprenticeship instead of Professor Slughorn. These are his personal notes on various potions and spells he either created or improved. I'm sure I don't have to tell you that I'm trusting you to protect this information and keep it to yourself."

"Yes, of course," Hermione whispered as she took the journal from Professor McGonagall with a look of pure awe. She knew that this was very special. The other woman would not give her something as private as this without a deep trust. Not only would it quench her thirst of knowledge, but in some ways it would give her a direct view into the interworking of the very mysterious man who had written it. She clutched the journal to her chest carefully as she looked into her Headmistress' eyes with a look of renewed purpose. Her previous worries about what she'd encountered had been placed at the back of her mind. _For now._

"Go on," Minerva laughed warmly at her, "I know you want to start studying it. Just make sure you don't get too lost in it. The students are due to arrive tomorrow around seven," she warned, dismissing her with a wave of her hand.

Once back in her dungeons, Hermione strode into her office and sat behind her large desk with a thoughtful look on her features. Her mind raced as her mind tried to battle between wanting to figure out what had happened earlier in the Shrieking shack to the wonderful distraction that she still held protectively in her grasp. She closed her eyes a moment and found herself opening the journal as if in a trance. The scent of its weathered pages brought her decision tp clarity. She would study the book now and worry later.

As she opened her eyes, she let out a breath that she didn't even know she was holding and looked down to see the elegant script that she recognized not only from her six years under him as a student, but also from the Prince's old potions book. She would treat the secrets contained here with care and she definitely would not be as careless with this knowledge as Harry had been all those years ago. What was written here would be treated with respect as well as caution.

As she began to pour over the private volume, she barely noticed as the candlelit room began to grow cold. She never bothered looking up as a blue-hued figure entered her office and stopped to observe her.

"So, it was _you_ ," the familiar dangerously silky voice reverberated through the room.

Hermione looked up from her readings and gave a startled cry before passing out, still clutching the journal for dear life.

* * *

 **A/N:** Boy, I think these are the fastest updates I've done in years. There's something about this story that has just really inspired me to write lol. Thank you for the positive reviews so far. They really feed my writer's mojo so to speak. Let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 4

**The Empty Canvas**

Written By: Keshia K. Mansell

The places and characters depicted in this story are expressly © J. K. Rowling.

* * *

 **Previously:**

 _As she began to pour over the private volume, she barely noticed as the candlelit room began to grow cold. She never bothered looking up as a blue-hued figure entered her office and stopped to observe her._

 _"So, it was you," the familiar dangerously silky voice reverberated through the room._

 _Hermione looked up from her readings and gave a startled cry before passing out, still clutching the journal for dear life._

* * *

 **Chapter 4:**

Severus was feeling an oddly reminiscent feeling of nostalgia as he gracefully made his way through the familiar corridors of the castle. Everything still looked much the same as it had his entire life, yet everything seemed much different. He couldn't really explain it. The changes were small, but their very existence gave way to his anxiety at how long he'd possibly been away. Certain things he remembered from the night of the Great Battle came back to him as he'd pause to stare at a certain wall or archway he'd vaguely remembered being demolished that was now standing proud as if time itself had ignored and reconstructed them on principal. Every now and then he'd pass a newly placed portrait that hadn't been there before or a trophy cabinet that referred to years he'd never experienced himself. It was all very _Twilight Zone_ to him. Very Strange.

The deeper he traveled through the castle, the worse his sense of foreboding became. The entire trip seemed to be in solitude. Not a single human nor ghost could be seen or heard. He couldn't even find any signs of Filch or his mangy companion Mrs. Norris being out and about. If he had to guess, he'd say that there were currently no students lurking about either. The halls were far too clean for anything else to be conceivable.

Somewhere along his travels, his mind registered that he seemed to be heading down to the dungeons. He wondered if maybe his instincts had taken over in the familiarity of his once daily trek. It felt like just yesterday he'd called these dark chambers his home and a part of him felt safer here. But upon further examination, he realized that he was still on the right track of the bright aura he could sense. In fact, the magical signature of this being's presence was much stronger and alive here.

When he reached the familiar door that led to what had once led to his old office, he paused with a frown. The magical signature from the Shrieking Shack was most definitely coming from this room. He could almost feel his translucent skin quivering under the current of it. But what were the odds that this being would come here? Was it merely a coincidence or was he being taunted? It was simply maddening.

The other issue that was running through his mind was that this door was completely shut. Up until this point, he had not yet attempted to move his newly corporeal body through an object. He knew he would be able to, of course. He had seen many spirits through these ancient halls move in and out of various walls as if they didn't exist at all. But watching and doing were too different things. Would it really be so simple to just move forward to get to the other side or was he required to use an undiscovered power to do so? Would he feel anything or nothing at all? Even worse, would he somehow do it wrong and make a fool of himself when he'd inevitably clash with the door itself and be denied entrance?

"This is ridiculous," he growled to himself with a scowl before finally walking forwards with the upmost confidence. As he easily passed through the barrio, he'd felt an odd tug throughout his body as if he could actually feel the smooth wood moving within him. It was the strangest feeling he'd ever felt by far, even if it had only lasted a few seconds. His body tingled unpleasantly as he crossed the threshold into the dimly lit room and paused as an unexpected sight greeted him.

This was no longer his office; that much was abundantly clear. During his long reign as Potions Master, he'd worked hard to perfect and cement a strong reputation of authority and fear. As such, his office and classroom had always reflected a man who was both dark and mysterious and above all should never be crossed. He had kept the walls their original stone coloring to give off a cold hardness that much reflected his persona. There had never been a single portrait nor picture hanging anywhere. Instead, he had lined the walls with his beloved tomes and rare potion ingredients that he refused to keep in his personal stores knowing that they had a better chance of getting stolen there. As for the mantle above the intricately carved fireplace, he'd left it empty save for a lone wax candle that would sometimes become covered in cobwebs due to lack of usage or care. Even his large cherry wood desk had held a sense of foreboding as it was almost always covered in essays, research notes, and red inkpots.

 _Lots_ of red inkpots.

Therefore he was not quite prepared when his eyes were suddenly assaulted with bright lights as he crossed the threshold of the once dimly lit room. He stood dumbfounded as the first thing his eyes grew accustomed to was picture upon picture lining the walls filled with smiling faces. He vaguely noticed that not all of the photos where moving. In fact, a great deal of them were still and lifeless as all Muggle photos seemed to be. He didn't take time to study them, however as he found himself astonished that the walls were no longer dreary and grey. Instead, the whole room had been repainted to a light beige that seemed to almost radiate the warmth of the almost too-bright room.

The hearth above the now lit fireplace had changed too. The candle was still there, but now it stood in between two diplomas that were proudly on display. One was a Hogwarts graduation diploma and the other one was a framed Potion Master's degree. Directly above them on the wall was a large panoramic viewed picture of the Hogwarts Graduation class of 1998 which was much smaller looking than Severus had remembered it to be. And then at the very top of the wall looked like a small memorial to those who had perished in the war next to a frame containing an Order of Merlin 1st Class.

Not everything in the room had changed though. The bookshelves were still in the same place as always and seemed to be still full if not fuller than they had been back when he'd been Potions Master. The layout of the room also seemed to be the same which was somewhat of a relief as this experience was already strange enough to him.

As he looked around the room, he'd purposely avoided looking where he knew the other occupant of the room currently resided. He had not bothered to fully take in the detail of those photographs and quite frankly when he'd noticed that particular year labeled on the panoramic photo it had nearly made his blood run cold. He had died that year… This person had been one of his students and judging by the amount of redheads plastered on the walls it wasn't hard for him to put two and two together.

He closed his eyes a moment before turning to gaze at the woman who sat behind what was once his desk. He inhaled sharply as her bushy-haired form came into view. Though, he had to admit she wasn't quite the way he had remembered her. She was much older now and her complexion had matured greatly, though not in a bad way. Her hair was just as unruly as it had always been, though now it was much longer and flowed more freely. Her skin was still smooth and tanned, though she had small frown lines between her brows and at the corners of her lips that made her look as if she was constantly thinking. Even now, he could practically see the cogs in her head turning and her amber eyes practically glowed as she absorbed the knowledge of whatever tomb she was dissecting.

He knew immediately that the aura was coming from her and wasn't happy about it in the slightest. This foolish girl had seen him at his weakest. She had been there to witness when the Dark lord had struck him down. Even now he could remember her fear-stricken face when she had stood behind Potter watching him bleed out. She had seen him give up his most prized memories to the boy and had even had the audacity to cry and look anguished when he'd given his last request and slipped away to what he'd thought would be his oblivion.

And now here she was; alive and carefree in _his_ office reading a damn book. Had she no idea what she'd done?

He wasn't surprised that she didn't acknowledge his presence as he felt himself slowly approach her. It was common knowledge that the spirits of this castle had free reign to visit whatever rooms of the castle they so desired. He himself had always ignored the Bloody Baron's random comings and goings through the dungeons on a regular basis. But this time would be different. He would not be ignored. The temperature of the room seemed to drop slightly as he stopped directly opposite with only the desk between them.

"So, it was _you,_ " he practically hissed at her, secretly applauding himself as she jumped with a start. However, he did not expect her to suddenly screech out like a banshee at the mere sight of him before passing out in a dead faint across her book.

"Oh, no you don't," he sneered as he held onto his anger and his aura seemed to glow that dangerous red again. He wasn't quite sure how he was doing it exactly, but he did know that it would help him get his point across as the air around them crackled a bit with kinetic energy. _"WAKE THE HELL UP!"_

That seemed to do it.

Hermione jerked awake with a start and stared into the glaring eyes of the apparition before her in horror. "W-what? You!?" she stuttered unattractively. "How is this even possible?" she whispered the last part as she gazed at him almost as if in a trace. She felt panicky and stressed out especially since she could practically feel his anger pouring from him. "You _can't_ be here," she said, pointing an accusatory finger at him as she abruptly stood from her desk. "I _saw_ you die. Your name isn't listed in the Hall of Ghosts. I _know_ it isn't because _everyone_ looked there when you didn't bother to show up in your portrait in the Headmistress' office. There's _no_ possible way you can be a ghost here and not be listed there," she stated matter-of-factly to him.

"Oh yes, Miss Granger and 10 points to Gryffindor for memorizing Hogwarts a History," he said sarcastically as he crossed his arms and glared down at her. Even though they were both standing, he was still pleased to see that he at least still towered over her small form. "Obviously as I _am_ very much quite here, your theories will need some revising," he taunted her, rolling his eyes. "Now, you will be giving me some answers and I expect them _right now_." He said in the same menacing tone he'd always used toward students who had in some way managed to piss him off.

"Now see here!" she exclaimed as she felt her cheeks warm with an angry flush at his mocking tone toward her. She barely noticed as she stomped around her desk until she was right in front of him. She was so irritated with him, that she forgot to feel embarrassed about the state of her still spoiled robes. "You will _not_ talk to _me_ like some delinquent student in my own classroom _Severus Snape!_ " She spat his name venomously as he glowered down at her, "I am 38 not 14 and _I_ am the potions Master here. You will treat me with the respect I deserve and not barge into my quarters like an enraged hippogriff!"

Normally Hermione wouldn't have been so forward in yelling at her professor and especially not one she'd well respected, but he was hitting on all of her last nerves. She had worked very hard to get where she was and was very proud of everything she had accomplished. He had no idea what she'd gone through since the end of the war. It had not all been pigmy puffs and roses contrary to whatever delusions he seemed to have about her life.

Severus could feel his jaw tighten in anger at her tenaciousness and yet he secretly applauded her courage in standing up to him. It was rare for anyone not to tremble in place when he'd locked them into the furious gaze that they now shared with one another. "You are nothing but a foolish girl," he whispered in a vicious voice, knowing that his words would cut the ever-perfectionist down a peg. "Girls shouldn't meddle in things that they don't understand. You had no business coming to the Shrieking Shack tonight and I want answers."

A flicker of hurt passed through her expressive eyes before her rage shone through. She had just opened her mouth to retort when a second uninvited guest barged into her office causing the room to engulf in the green light of the flames from the roar of the floo.

"Miss Granger, the portraits told me- _Severus!?"_ Professor McGonagall stood frozen in disbelief. The other two occupants of the room seemed so startled by her appearance that for a moment, they forgot they were still angry at each other and just stared at her.

"Hello, Minerva," Severus' voice finally broke the silence. "I think we all need to have a little talk."

* * *

 **A/N:** Hey there, sorry about the long wait! It's finally fair season so I've been dragging my boyfriend like everywhere! It's been loooooads of fun. We got to ride all kinds of fun rides including this crazy spinning one called the Sizzler (soooo much fun) and we also had a cute ride on the Farris Wheel. I actually won a stuffed animal at the basketball booth, but I ended up giving it to a little girl lol. Aren't I sweet? Anyway, hope everyone had a nice holiday!

In the next chapter, Harry Potter pays a visit and we'll see the sorting ceremony!


	6. Chapter 5

**The Empty Canvas**

Written By: Keshia K. Mansell

The places and characters depicted in this story are expressly © J. K. Rowling.

* * *

 **Previously:**

 _A flicker of hurt passed through her expressive eyes before her rage shone through. She had just opened her mouth to retort when a second uninvited guest barged into her office causing the room to engulf in the green light of the flames from the roar of the floo._

 _"Miss Granger, the portraits told me- Severus!?" Professor McGonagall stood frozen in disbelief. The other two occupants of the room seemed so startled by her appearance that for a moment, they forgot they were still angry at each other and just stared at her._

" _Hello, Minerva," Severus' voice finally broke the silence. "I think we all need to have a little talk."_

* * *

 **Chapter 5:**

"You would think I would be used to this sort of thing by now…" Harry Potter muttered to himself as he stared in bemusement at the translucent figure that was waiting for he and his partner next to the whomping willow.

"Problems, Potter?" the sandy haired wizard walking beside him teased in an Irish accent. His name was Kyle Cobblepot and he'd been Harry's partner for nearly four years now. Kyle was a former Slytherin and was a few years younger than Harry himself. At first they had clashed personalities, but once they'd gotten to know each other they'd become their department's number one duo. "At least he can't take points from you," he smirked as they drew nearer.

"That's what you think. Just wait," he replied with a snort.

Harry had really enjoyed his job as an Auror over the years and had not surprisingly moved up very fast in their ranks. At first, he had had a lot to contend with since his fellow team members would either praise him or condemn him for who he was and what he stood for. Most respected him for his defeat of Voldemort, but some of the senior officers felt that Harry was a foolish boy with luck on his side and that would use his name to get his way in life. The-Man-Who-Lived had proven them wrong however when he'd vocally refused handouts from solicitors in the ministry and put his all into every single case he'd worked.

In 2007 his career had hit an all-time high when he'd become the youngest person to become head of the Auror department. He'd been ecstatic to accept the position at first, but as time had worn on, he'd come to miss the rush of being on the job rather than making schedules and doing paperwork. Finally, his decision was made three years later when his third child Lily had entered the world. He graciously stepped down from his leadership role and returned to what he loved to do while at the same time was able to re-arrange his schedule so that he could spend more time with his wife and family.

"Professor," he greeted politely, bowing his head slightly as he stopped in front of the man. Harry couldn't put into words how strange it was to see the man again. On one side, he was almost consumed by an eagerness to ask the man several questions that he'd never been able to do in life. On the other hand, he wanted to be cautious because he knew that the Professor would never want nor understand the respect that Harry felt for him these days. Also, he would need to remain professional and try not to get on the sour man's nerves as he was here to investigate and hopefully get to the bottom of whatever had happened here.

"Your occlumency still needs work, Mr. Potter," Snape drawled, his face as emotionless as ever as he stared at his former student in disdain. Harry ignored his partner's chuckle beside him as his face flushed in momentary embarrassment. Ghosts could use Legilimency? He'd never heard of a ghost using intricate magic before. Yes, he'd seen them touch and knock things over. But to be able to retain something so difficult as the magic of the mind was completely unheard of.

As if reading his thoughts, Snape simply raised an eyebrow at him as if to challenge that notion before continuing. "Your little friends have been questioning the Headmistress and Miss Granger all morning and no one can seem to figure out how someone managed to enter the wards or how my presence is possible," he paused, his tone very reminiscent of his days lecturing as a professor. "What, Mr. Potter, makes you seem to think that your presence will make…the slightest… difference?" He spaced out the last few words as if to emphasize his point before observing the Auror's reaction.

Harry's expressive green eyes seemed to flash for a moment before he did something that the former professor had not expected; he laughed. "You're just the same as I remember you, Sir," he smiled at the man, unabashed. "It's good to have you back." Simple, yet effective. The ghostly potion's master seemed somewhat flabbergasted a moment before shaking his head and turning on the spot toward the whomping willow.

"Coming, Potter?" he shouted without looking back as he disappeared through the passageway.

"Yeeeeah, good luck with that one mate," Kyle said, clapping harry on the back as he started toward the forest just beyond the willow. "I'll check out the wards and look around to see if someone's been camping out!"

"Alright, just be careful, Harry called after him as he took his wand out and shot a spell at a knot in the tree's roots to stun it. "Even I can't tell you the horrors I've seen in that forest," he laughed, then disappeared from view himself.

" _Lumos_ ," he intoned automatically as he trekked down the tunnel. Even though he was certain that the former spy would have warned him if someone was currently hiding here, he still took care to move cautiously and listen for any signs of life. When he'd safely made it through the trapdoor of the shack, he waved the spell away since it was bright enough to see and looked around. Snape was standing just at the side of the room staring down at the spot where he'd perished with a disgusted scowl on his face.

Noticing that Harry had arrived, he glanced at him before returning his gaze to the discolored wood once more. "This must be quite the sight for you, Potter," he said in a low voice, dropping the pleasantries from earlier if they could be called that. "But don't fool yourself," he turned to face the younger man fully. "Just because you saw me at my weakest point and know my secrets does _not_ in any way make us friends. With you or without you I will find out why I've returned to this miserable existence so that I can return to rotting away in hell where I belong." His words were just as bitter as he felt.

"I don't believe that's true at all, Professor," he replied after an uncomfortable pause as he looked into the man's eyes. "In hell, I mean. I think you deserve better than that." Then he walked passed the man into the next room before the spirit had any time to retort.

The first thing he noticed that was odd about the room was that _everything_ was intact and yet it looked like there had been some sort of dust explosion in the room. This must have been from the after effects of Hermione's spell the night before. The boards on the windows were no longer crooked and broken. The table and chairs were strewn about in odd places and some were still tipped over, but they had definitely been repaired. This disturbance would unfortunately cause his job to be much harder as he was trying to discover what had happened _before_ Hermione had been here. Even her energy still seemed to hang in the stillness on a suffocating level.

"Hmn," he frowned, crossing his arms. He could see Severus' glowing form in the corner of his eye and turned to address him. "Have you ever seen a magical reaction quite like this? I mean, I know Hermione is a powerful witch, but this is almost as if her magic colliding with something powerful in the room that magnified it…" he trailed off and then pointed at the burnt remnants of the fireplace. "Hell, even the burnt wood in there looks like it was blown backwards!"

"It's possible," Severus replied as he thought Harry's words over, wondering if whatever she'd triggered had also been responsible for whatever magic had brought him back too. "But what object could have possibly caused that? Surely she would have noticed if something else was in the room with her. After all, it's not hard for something to look out of place in this dump," he growled

"I'm not sure," Harry admitted, still deep in thought. His eyes were still scanning around for additional clues, but so far nothing else seemed out of place. He'd just began to pull out his wand to perform a few spells that could help, when he heard a tiny squeak in the hall. Both he and the professor immediately moved to investigate.

"Oh, that little blighter," Severus mumbled in a bored tone as they both watched a small mouse scurry from a small hole it had chewed in the wall. "Nasty little creatures," he said, curling his lip at it.

"Perhaps," Harry agreed, quickly stunning the creature and tossing it into a small cage he conjured from his pocket. "I'll need to run some spells on him later to see what kind of residual magic he's been exposed to. There's also been some study in the Department for the regulation and control of Magical creatures where they have been studying the possibilities of extracting small memories from unintelligent animals to study why they instinctively act the way they do. A bit barbaric if you ask me, but if we can see what all this little guy has seen lately, I'm not complaining," he explained.

"I didn't ask for a lecture on scientific advancements, Mr. Potter," he rolled his eyes at him. He was about to turn back toward the other room when he watched his former student drop down to the floor gazing at the hole in the wall. "Anything interesting?" he asked, more sarcastically than anything else.

"Yes actually," Harry supplied as he squinted into the tiny crevice. He couldn't be sure, but it looked like something was hidden back there. "I can't quite tell, but… _Accio,_ " he tried, only to be pelted in the face with mouse dropping and dirt. He heard a deep laugh behind him and groaned.

"Very good, Mr. Potter. I shall recommend you to Minerva if she ever decides to replace Filtch," he laughed, very much enjoying the misfortune of his least favorite student.

"Gee thanks," he muttered before quickly _Scourgifying_ himself and glaring back at the hole. "There's definitely something in there though. It was impervious to my magic so it might be exactly what we are looking for," he informed him as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and carefully stuck his hand in the mouse hole.

Severus gave him a very disapproving look. "Why am I not surprised at your stupidity, Potter? Did it ever occur to you that something that is impervious to your magic shouldn't be touched!?" he practically yelled at the insolence.

"True, but luckily for us that isn't the case," Harry grinned as he retrieved the object and stood, holding his hand out so that they could both see what he'd found. Nestled in the palm of his hand was a very familiar stone with the Hallows simple etched in the middle of it. The grin immediately slid from Harry's face upon seeing it. Severus looked at him with a confused frown.

"That's the stone that was in the cursed ring Dumbledore found." It was a statement, not a question. "I thought it had been buried with Dumbledore when he died. He never did tell me why it was so important," he said. He vaguely wondered if Voldemort had somehow obtained it and had it with him the night he'd died.

Harry, however, seemed to have different thoughts on the matter. "This shouldn't be possible," he murmured, bringing it closer to his face as he inspected it. "I dropped this in the forest on the night of the final battle. There's no way it could have gotten here by itself…" he seemed to notice the other man's confusion at his words and explained, "This is the Reserection Stone. It's one of three ancient artifacts from an old legend that can make someone the Master of Death. This is all common knowledge now, of course. But you wouldn't have known. Besides, I destroyed the Elder Wand, so no one would be able to do it now anyway."

A look of shock passed over Severus' face. That wand had been the entire reason his career as a spy had ended. That treacherous wand… The worst part was that he'd been sacrificed like a pawn in chess. Both teams had seemingly predicted his destruction whether it be from Albus wanting him to become the Master of the blasted thing or Voldemort's false belief he had in fact done it. Now that he thought about it, he wondered if Dumbledore had thought that maybe the wand would have saved Severus somehow. But even that had been wishful thinking. He'd known all along himself that he'd never survive that war. He'd been in too deep.

He watched carefully as Harry turned the stone in his hands thrice then cocked his head to the side when the young man's eyes seemed to harden.

"Something is wrong, here," Harry said, looking up at him and holding the stone up, "Someone has tampered with this. It's not working right," he explained, "When I turned it, I should have seen ghosts of loved ones. This stone could be the whole reason why you are here."

Snape snorted at him, about to berate him for having an overactive imagination about the stone's powers before he paused at Harry's last sentence. "Excuse me?"

"I think you heard me just fine, Professor," he said as he tucked the stone in his pocket and picked up the cage containing the small mouse again. "I don't think I have to warn you not to speak much on this topic," he said pointedly as he started to head for the exit.

"Do I look like I gossip much to you, Mr. Potter?" His cape billowed impressively as he turned on the spot and made his own exit through the wall, not looking back.

When Harry reached the other side of the tunnel, he once again stunned the roots of the tree and exited the passage to find Kyle waiting patiently for him. "I found remnants of a campfire out there," he informed him when he was closer. "I would have looked deeper, but the Centaurs asked me to leave. They said that they hadn't noticed anyone in their territory so it was of no concern to them. Other than that, the wards are all still intact," he frowned, looking curiously at the mouse.

"Good work, meet me back at the Ministry. I think I've found something," Harry told him.

"HARRY!" A voice yelled out from across the grounds and he could make out a familiar form running toward him waving.

"I'll be there in a moment," Harry told Kyle and the other man nodded before heading toward the school so he could floo out.

It didn't take long for Hermione to greet him and she happily threw herself into her best friend's arms as he caught her and spun her around. "Harry!" she squealed in delight as he set her down and she gave him a proper hug. "It's so good to see you! Were you able to find anything?" she asked, still smiling. She'd been questioned all morning along with Neville and Minerva by a few Aurors and was happy to see a friendly face.

"Yes, I did actually," he said, his smile becoming somewhat worried. "But Hermione, this could be bad…" he removed the stone from his pocket to show her and she gasped.

"But that's –"

"Yes. Yes it is…" he trailed off, then placed his empty hand on her arm comfortingly. "I want you to keep your eyes out, Hermione. I can't reveal all that I've discovered to you, but something strange was going on in that Shack and I don't want you to go exploring," he said giving her a meaningful look. "I have to go now. Give James and Albus my love when they get here," he said with a smile before he gave her another hug and rushed back toward the castle with the cage still clutched in his other hand.

Hermione stood there in confusion for a moment as she watched his retreat. Then she glanced beck at the whomping willow and bit her lip anxiously wondering what else her friend could have found. As she was looking, she noticed a glowing figure exiting the forest just beyond the tree. He paused and they locked gazes with one another as if trying to read how much the other knew.

When he didn't make any moves to come nearer, she frowned and turned back toward the castle. When she was about half way across the grounds, she glanced back. He was gone.

* * *

 **AN:** Hi there! I know I said that this chapter would contain the opening feast and the sorting ceremony, but I thought this would be a bit more important to have happen first. The next chapter will have it though, I promise lol. Enjoy!

P.S. if you are curious about how old the kids are, James is 13, Albus is 11, and Lily is 7 in this story. That way you can see the madness of my math. I used 2007 as the year harry became Head of the Auror department because I found it on Harry Potter Wiki. The "him stepping down" part is purely my fabrication because I feel like he'd be more interested in the rush of action while giving his children the father he never had. A lovely balance of irresposible danger with totally resposnible love. Sounds like our Harry! I just can't see him being happy doing paperwork all day.


	7. Chapter 6

**The Empty Canvas**

Written By: Keshia K. Mansell

The places and characters depicted in this story are expressly © J. K. Rowling.

* * *

 **Previously:**

 _Hermione stood there in confusion for a moment as she watched his retreat. Then she glanced beck at the whomping willow and bit her lip anxiously wondering what else her friend could have found. As she was looking, she noticed a glowing figure exiting the forest just beyond the tree. He paused and they locked gazes with one another as if trying to read how much the other knew._

 _When he didn't make any moves to come nearer, she frowned and turned back toward the castle. When she was about half way across the grounds, she glanced back. He was gone._

* * *

 **Chapter 6:**

Hermione couldn't help but smile as the first batch of students started to file into the Great Hall. She was seated in her usual seat at the far end of the head table looking out toward the massive room which would soon be full of excited chattering children. She absolutely loved this time of the year not only to catch a first glimpse at her new pupils, but also because the castle seemed to suddenly come to life. It was truly magical.

To her left, Neville was seated beside her toying nervously with his napkin; a look of panic on his face. Every year, he would come to her practically begging for a calming draught and every year, he would somehow forget where he had put it. Even though he had faced Death Eaters and even had spoken out against the late Lord Voldemort to his face back in his youth, there was just something about the opening feast and first weeks of class that would seem to completely undo him. Then, inexplicably nearly two weeks later he would be back in the swing of things as if he hadn't a care in the world. He'd truly found his niche in Herbology and was a force to be reckoned with when in his element.

As for his nervousness at the present…. Well, _some_ things would truly never change.

Giggling to herself at the thought, Hermione took a sip from her goblet of pumpkin juice and took a moment observe her little lions as they began to seat themselves and talk amongst old friends. She was proud of each and every one of them as she took in their happy faces. She only paused when she saw a rather irate looking Victoire Weasley trying to escape the younger James Potter who seemed to be firing question after question at her. The strawberry blonde girl finally pushed him away as if he was a pest and escaped into an open seat at the end of the table next to her fellow seventh years with a furious blush on her face. Rumor had it that she'd just started dating young Teddy Lupin who'd graduated the year previously. No doubt the antsy third year had been teasing her mercilessly about it. Hermione snorted to herself as she pulled her eyes away from the little trouble-maker as he too found his seat. Hopefully Albus wouldn't be quite as much of a handful.

She was suddenly pulled from her musings as the large double doors of the hall suddenly bound open and Deputy-Headmaster Flitwick came bouncing into the room happily with the much-taller first years trailing behind them. Each and every one of them were in awe and some even looked like they might faint as they gazed around the now very crowded room taking in every sight they could. As always, many of their small fingers pointed up to the enchanted ceilings and floating candles above them. Others were more intimidated by seeing their fellow students and teachers as they glanced all around trying to spot friendly, possibly encouraging faces. As always, Filch followed them in at the rear of the crowd.

Once everyone was in the hall, Minerva stood and the entire hall immediately grew silent as they looked to her for the introductory announcements.

"Good evening to those who are newly joining us," she nodded to the standing first years, "and to those who are returning to us," she gestured to the hall as a whole. Then she returned her attention to the newest students standing before her. "Welcome to Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry! I am your Headmistress, Professor McGonagall. Tomorrow, you will start your journey into the education of our ancient arts which will help hone your futures in our world. But before this can begin, you must be sorted. There are four houses in which you may be sorted that originate from our founders Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, and Salazar Slytherin. Gryffindor is for those students who are brave and chivalrous at heart. Your head of house will be Professor Granger." At this, Hermione nodded her head and smiled at them pleasantly. "Ravenclaw represents those who hold intelligence and the quest for knowledge above all. Your head of house will be Professor Flitwick whom you have already met. Hufflepuff values friendship and loyalty. Your head of house will be Professor Sinistra. And lastly, Slytherin is for those who have cunning ambitions and are resourceful. Your Head of house is Professor Vector."

As she spoke, Professor Flitwick hurried over and grabbed a stool and placed it in the middle of the hall before putting the sorting hat on top of it. Once the Headmistress had finished her speech, many of the first years gasped in shocking delight as the hat suddenly came to life and bellowed its start of the year tune.

 _"Oh, ho! Another year with no more fear!_

 _Some may jeer, but I say cheer and have a cup of tea,_

 _For I can say, plain as day you'll never meet another hat like me!_

 _I am the Hogwarts Sorting Hat and my word is law,_

 _But never fear, for I know where best you fall!_

 _Are you all brave and brawn?_

 _Perhaps you have the rawer of a lion strong?_

 _Well I say: GRYFFINDOR! GRYFFINDOR! GRYFFINDOR!_

 _Are you smart and regale?_

 _Perhaps you have the brains of an eagle?_  
 _Well I say: RAVENCLAW! RAVENCLAW! RAVENCLAW!_

 _Are your friendships all loyal?_

 _Perhaps you channel your inner badger to save those from toil?_

 _Well I say: HUFFLEPUFF! HUFFLEPUFF! HUFFLEPUFF!_

 _Are you full of cunning and ambition to those you shake?_

 _Perhaps you slither through all of your dealings like the snake?_

 _Well I say: SLYTHERIN! SLYTHERIN! SLYTHERIN!_

 _That's all fine and good,_

 _But take care to learn and integrate with others as you should!_

 _Remember that the founders all started as friends,_

 _Try not to ostracize and keep all at ends!_

 _History has a way of repeating,_

 _But we here at Hogwarts sure know what's worth keeping!_

 _So, come on now and don't be shy,_

 _I'm really a nice ol' guy!_

 _Step up, and I'll tell you where you ought to be!"_

The entire room burst with applause as everyone beamed at the hat's newest song. Even Hermione had to admit that she very much liked this year's song. It had been very light and playful, but still reminded the students to stay united no matter which house they may fall. She could only hope that the message hadn't went in one year and out the other.

As the hall died down some, Professor Flitwick had taken the opportunity to climb on top of a rather large step-stool so that his tiny form could be seen by all. Then he pulled out a large piece of parchment and the sorting began with "Harrold, Abbot!"

Hermione vaguely payed attention as the small sandy blonde child was sorted into Hufflepuff. She was too busy scanning the crowd for her favorite "nephew." Sure enough, toward the back of the pile stood a small boy with messy dark brown hair and piercing green eyes. He so closely resembled his father at that age that she sometimes had to have a double-take when seeing him. Albus was nearly identical to harry as a child except he was definitely more nourished, his small face was a tiny bit more squared like his mother Ginny's, and he did not wear glasses. She noticed that Albus also appeared to be quite a bit more nervous looking at the moment than she'd remembered Harry being when they had been sorted. They met each other's eyes and she gave him a warm smile of encouragement.

"Scorpius Malfoy!"

That name brought Hermione's attention back to the sorting as she watched a child with silver-blonde hair and a pointy chin take his seat on the stool. So this was Draco Malfoy's child? He also looked like the spitting image of his father as he sat with before them with a presence of superiority. The only difference she could tell, was that the child had striking blue eyes instead of silver and they seemed to hold a warmth in them that she could never remember his father ever having. Hopefully this child would take a different path than his bully of a father.

"SLYTHERIN!"

No shock there. She watched him curiously as he made his way to an empty seat among his new comrades.

"Albus Potter!"

There was a snort of indigence to her left and she was surprised to see Professor Snape leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. The look on his eerily glowing face seemed to be somewhere between disgust and amusement. "Of course," he muttered under his breath as they watched the child take a seat on the stool.

Hermione glanced back at Neville a moment to see that he was watching the sorting distractedly before she turned and addressed the sour ghost with a light smirk. She still needed to get back at him for yelling at her after all. "Oh, I wouldn't be so judging of that child's name if I were you," she said slyly. She mentally congratulated herself when his bored eyes graced her with a mildly curious look.

"Let me guess, it's something equally as noble," he drawled. "The mutt or the werewolf?" he said in a tone that made her question if he was actually asking or making a statement.

"Neither, though his oldest son James' middle name _is_ Sirius," she paused, watching him flinch at the third year's name as a whole. Two enemies in one was apparently too much for him. He straightened and looked like he was about to move away from her when she suddenly spoke again. "Severus." He paused and gave her an odd look. She'd never referred to him by first name before. This was where her smirk grew more defiant. "Albus _Severus_ Potter." Something akin to horror crossed his face as he glared from her to the boy with his jaw slightly slackened. It was at that moment that the sorting hat made its decision.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Oh, isn't that just perfect," she said sweetly as she stood and clapped for the boy who had turned to beam at her before running off to his seat. Professor Snape looked quite displeased before resuming his position against the wall scowling in the direction of Gryffindor's table. She laughed in response and resumed sitting as she watched the rest of the ceremony.

Finally, after the last student Rose Weasley had been sorted to Gryffindor, Professor Flitwick removed the stools and hat as the Headmistress stood to speak again.

"Wonderful, simply wonderful!" she smiled, giving each table another round of applause. "Now, before we begin the feast, I have some short announcements. Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you that all Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products are banned from the hallways," there were some grins at this to which she gave them all a stern look and they quieted down. "As always, the Forbidden Forest is off limits to all students unless accompanied by a professor. Quidditch tryouts for second years and above will begin in two weeks. Captains will post a sign-up list on your house bulletin boards. First years, please follow your designated prefects after the feast to your common rooms so you may learn the passwords."

"Lastly, I would like to say that you may be seeing some new faces around the school. I would like to introduce the newest ghost to roam our halls, Professor Snape," there was barely any applause to this announcement as nearly every students' parents had told them stories about the man. Nearly everyone was now eyeing him in curiosity and he looked decidedly uncomfortable as he glared right back at them. At this, the students gulped and looked away, all save for Albus who was looking at his namesake in awe. "In addition to Professor Snape, you may also see Aurors walking about the grounds near the Forbidden Forest. There is nothing wrong, they are merely observing a minor incident. I only ask that you not badger them with questions and leave them in peace," she paused a moment, letting her words sink in, then smiled. "Tuck in!"

The rest of the feast was decidedly uneventful. She had been slightly entertained when Nearly Headless Nick had tried to greet Professor Snape only to be snubbed, but other than that everything happened as it always had. Soon she found herself wishing Neville and her fellow colleagues goodnight before heading down to her dungeons.

That night, she tossed and turned in her sleep with visions of resurrection stones, classes, and scowling professors tumbling through her mind.

* * *

 **A/N:** Wow, I never realized how fun writing sorting hat songs could be! I do want to say that when the hat shouts the house's names three times it is supposed to sound almost like Quidditch cheers. Hope you liked it!


	8. Chapter 7

**The Empty Canvas**

Written By: Keshia K. Mansell

The places and characters depicted in this story are expressly © J. K. Rowling.

* * *

 **Previously:**

 _The rest of the feast was decidedly uneventful. She had been slightly entertained when Nearly Headless Nick had tried to greet Professor Snape only to be snubbed, but other than that everything happened as it always had. Soon she found herself wishing Neville and her fellow colleagues goodnight before heading down to her dungeons._

 _That night, she tossed and turned in her sleep with visions of resurrection stones, classes, and scowling professors tumbling through her mind._

* * *

 **Chapter 7:**

Over the next several days Severus took his time wondering throughout every corridor re-familiarizing himself with his old home. On more than one occasion he would find himself in a hall already occupied with several students who were either talking with friends in small groups, waiting for their next classes, or simply passing by. He was more than amused to find that his legendary temperament was still a popular theme throughout the school. In fact, most of the time when he would enter a hall, the students would stop what they were doing and quickly flee from him as if he would turn rabid at any moment. There were some who were brave enough to stare curiously at him of course, but usually all it took was eye contact and they'd become completely unnerved.

Yes, he still had it.

Only one student seemed to be immune to his tactics, much to his dismay. Albus Potter had taken a rather peculiar interest in him that he wasn't particularly fond of. In fact, it annoyed the holy hell out of him. At times he would turn around and find the youth peeking from around a corner to catch a glimpse of him or he'd catch the kid attempting to trail him. Each time, Severus would scowl at him at spit cruel insults to try and deter the child. Unfortunately, it seemed that young Albus had inherited Potter's gift of selective deafness. He vaguely wondered if the brat was somehow tracking him on that bloody map of his. Surely Potter would have given the blasted thing to at least one of his sons.

Luckily, the other Potter boy seemed to have no interest at all in him. _That_ was certainly a blessing. The most James Potter had ever done was acknowledge him with an uneasy glance before running along to scheme with his friends. Good riddance as far as Severus was concerned. He'd seen enough Potters to last him several lifetimes.

It was about a week after the start of term that Severus found himself in a courtyard he did not recognize. He was currently roaming the grounds on the opposite side of the main entrance to the castle when he'd stumbled upon it. It seemed that hardly anyone ever visited here for the courtyard was surprisingly empty. And yet, it was probably the most beautiful and well-kept part of the castle he had ever seen. He silently strode along the tasteful cobblestone path as his dark eyes took in the lovely garden that surrounded the area along with four white benches with the magical glow of each house crest beneath them. He passed under a white archway that had been overcome with the delicate spiny vines of succulent red and white roses and stopped as he looked at the lovely monument that lay in the center.

It was a large fountain with a great marble phoenix diving up into the sky as water spray up from her outstretched beak and wings. _'Here the Dark Lord fell at the hands of Harry J. Potter and the Wizarding World became reborn,'_ had been etched in calligraphy at the base of the impressive statue. As Severus grew nearer, he began to notice more little details about the quite place. He was no longer standing on cobblestone. Under his feet were now marble bricks with names he recognized to be the fallen.

It was as if he was moving on instinct that he stopped directly in front of his own brick and frowned as he gazed down at it.

 _Severus T. Snape_

 _Final Battle_

 _A Brave Man._

Brave? He didn't feel brave. Didn't anyone realize he'd simply been doing what he had to do? Had they really forgiven all of the horrible things he'd done in his past? He doubted it. Even worse, he hated that among all of these names, his had probably been revered as a hero. That's not what he'd ever wanted. He was not a hero. Heroes didn't cause their best friend to die. If people had really understood the full picture of the horrors he'd witnessed and taken part of, his name would have never been here. It would have been blasted into oblivion… much like he felt he should be at the moment.

His face contorted with anger suddenly as all of his previous questions and insecurities rushed to the forefront of his mind once again. Why the hell was he here after all this time and just what did that fucking stone have to do with it? If only Granger had never entered that damn shack! If only she'd been able to control her magic! "I don't belong here _…_ " he growled to himself bitterly.

"Wait," he said suddenly as a thought entered his mind and he crossed his arms pensively.

 _'You_ can't _be here… Your name isn't in the Hall of Ghosts!'_ Granger's heated words suddenly floated through his mind in a clear wisp. Why hadn't he thought of it before? If no one alive could tell him why he had returned, couldn't the dead?

His cape flourished behind him dramatically as he swiftly turned from the monument and gracefully strode away without looking back.

The castle was fairly quiet when he reentered through one of the stone walls. The sun was starting to go down and curfew would soon be in place. The few students that were still running about the halls paid him no attention as they swiftly made their way to their respective common rooms. He paid them no attention as he descended toward the dungeons. However, instead of turning toward the familiar corridors of Slytherin, he began to trek his way down a less friendly looking path. The deeper his moved through the heart of the castle, the gloomier and darker it became. These halls had long ago been abandoned by the living if the dusty webs and decaying artwork had anything to say about it. Some of the canvases were so careworn, he could barely even tell if they had fostered any occupants at all.

After what seemed like forever, Severus began to notice an unnaturally eerie glow at the end of the hall. As he drew nearer, he saw that the narrow hall opened up to a large abandoned room that was lit by odd glowing white flames that didn't resemble any type of fire he'd ever come across. ' _Spirit Fire,'_ he found himself thinking as he circled around the expansive room. The walls here were in poor shape it seemed, for he could he that they were littered with age and cracks. But it was the portraits of this dreary place that caught him off guard. They simply _did not move_. He stopped in front of a rather haunting painting of who he knew to be the Bloody Baron when he'd been very much alive. Something about seeing the other man represented in a color oil painting and unmoving caused a chill to run down his spine. It was fairly off-putting.

"Ah, I wondered when you'd come," a raspy voice bellowed softly from behind him. He whipped around quickly to find the Baron himself floating a few feet away, his expression blank and unmoving. "Welcome to the Hall of Ghosts, professor. Though I dare say, you will not find what you are looking for here."

Severus eyed the ghost he was most familiar with carefully as he gave the other apparition his full attention. "So, what the little know-it-all said is true then," he said in an almost thoughtful voice. Then he rose a brow at the other questioningly, "How is this possible?"

"Because you are not a Hogwarts ghost," the Baron replied simply, his face still void of emotion. Severus vaguely wondered if the man had been dead for so long he'd forgotten basic human traits such as showing emotion, or if he was simply like Severus and saw it as more of a privilege than a necessity. "You are one of us, yes. But your spirit is not tied specifically to the school as we are. Your journey is much different. We chose to stay here," he motioned toward the portraits as he said this and suddenly all of the Hogwarts' celestials began to fade in from the shadows around the room surrounding them but making no move to draw near.

If Severus was put off by this rather odd display, he did not show it. Instead, he ignored the onlookers and waited for the Baron to continue. "You are very different from us, Severus Snape. And yet, in many ways you are the same. Your spirit is here for a purpose; unfinished business perhaps. But it seems that you have only come back to us because your purpose has reawakened itself…" he trailed off, then drew uncomfortably close to the other man so he could see his bloodshot eyes. "Hogwarts once again finds itself in grave danger. Only this time, it's not just Mudbloods that are in danger."

Severus was about to snarl a retort at the spirit's ugly words, but his voice left him as the Baron floated away from him and nodded toward a far room he hadn't noticed before. In fact all of the spirits including the Fat Friar appeared grim as they gazed at the lone archway. Severus took a deep breath and walked calmly forward. But when he entered the room he stopped dead in his tracks and gasped.

At the edge of the room was the glowing figure of yet another house ghost he recognized, but there was something very, very wrong with her. The Grey Lady was still as a statue with her eyes bulged in what appeared to be a mixture of terror and fury with her fists clenched in a threatening manner. Her hair had flared out as if frozen in motion and her stance reminded him of when Nearly-Headless Nick had been paralyzed when the Chamber of Secrets had been opened. But even that wasn't the worst of it. Her entire being was covered in strange cuts and cracks and every now and then a weird tremor would pass through her form as if she was trapped and trying to fight it. Her glow was no longer the fluorescent blue he was accustomed to seeing their kind, instead it was a vile shade of green.

He hesitantly approached her to gain a closer look when he realized that something was dripping from her trembling form. He bent down to take a look at the small glowing puddle beneath her. "Ectoplasm?" he whispered to himself, recognizing the rare ingredient. One could only harvest it from an exorcized spirit nd yet here she was seemingly bleeding it. Through the color was quite off from what he was used to seeing. That same disgusting green seemed to be tainting it. He could almost feel the magnetism of the dark magic calling him to touch it. Curious, he stood and was about to extend his arm to examine her further when he was suddenly intercepted by a now very angry Baron.

" _DON'T TOUCH HER!_ " he hissed causing Severus to back away in shock. "You will kill her permanently if you do," he said, his face now full of emotion and rage. He turned from the Potion's Master and gazed toward the Grey Lady with a sad look. "Helena will only be the first victim…" he trailed off, his normally vacant eyes now glowing with something akin to passion.

"What has done this?" Snape asked as he watched the other's demeanor carefully.

"Do you really not know the answer?" the Baron asked him, looking back again. "History will always repeat itself, Professor. Do not let the views of the living cloud reality."

Sometime later, Severus emerged from the depths of the forgotten side of the dungeons in deep thought about what the Baron had said. It was obvious that whatever had caused the Grey Lady's suffering was somehow tied to him. He however was unsure of the last riddle of history repeating itself. This Dark Magic had certainly not been caused by a basilisk and the dark Lord was long dead. What could it all mean?

Continuing to brood as he walked, he hadn't even realized that his feet had led him to what had once been his private potions lab. He was thrown from his thoughts when he found that the room was already occupied in this late hour.

Hermione hadn't noticed him watching her curiously as she focused all of her attention on her brewing. Her right hand was gently rotating a long glass stirring rod counter clockwise while her left hand was ghosting over a large tomb. Her brows were furrowed in intense concentration as she studied the text and then glanced toward her creation. When it began to turn a cherry-red color she stopped stirring and smiled. "Ah, and now…" she trailed off and took out her wand as she expertly flicked it through the air as if painting a tapestry. A golden glowing ruin began to form with each precise stroke and when she was pleased with it, she used her wand to push the glowing symbol into cauldron. The potion hissed angrily as the magical energy made contact with it and Severus watched in fascination as it seemed to disperse into the solution causing it to glow a moment before the potion as a whole turned from red into more of a soft pink.

As he watched her work, he hadn't realized he'd been steadily gravitating toward her until he was directly behind her looking over her shoulder. "And what… Miss Granger… Are you doing?" he articulated in his normal drawl.

Hermione let out a startled yelp as she turned around to face him, nearly knocking over her potion in the process. "P-Professor!" she gasped. Her robes had unfortunately not spared her glass stirring rod as it fell from the table. Just before it hit the ground, the rod paused in midair and levitated into her former Professors translucent hand. She bit her lip and carefully grabbed it from him wondering how he'd been able to save it. Ghosts couldn't do magic, could they? She would have to research this!

"One again, I will ask you," he said in a low voice, neither moving away from their close proximity nor breaking eye contact with her. "What are you doing?"

Hermione couldn't help put gulp as she looked up at him, suddenly feeling like a student being caught after hours. She could feel the slightly cool air that surrounded his presence in the slightly stifling quarters. "Well," she said, breaking eye contact with him to turn off her Bunsen burner, "I didn't only study to become a Potion's Mistress when I was furthering myself," she explained, "During my travels I was introduced to the ancient art of rune casting when brewing. It actually helps strengthen the bonds and elements of any potion you can think of. It opened up so many new possibilities for me considering some runes don't have a direct English translation. There's a plethora of possible outcomes," she said as she began to carefully pour her mixture into various flasks.

"Granger, I didn't ask for your history…"

"I know," she huffed, glancing at him. She was surprised to find that the malice that usually adorned his face was gone. Instead he seemed to truly be interested in what she'd been doing. If his journal was anything to go by, the man was probably dissecting her words and filing them into the depths of his mind for future further exploration.

"Take this potion, for example," she said, waving a freshly corked vial at him. "This would normally have been a simple throat soothing draught. But when I added that health rune to it, I magnified its properties so that instead of it acting as a normal cough syrup might, it should actually completely cure both the subject's throat and fever in a manner of minutes. Everything becomes faster acting and more efficient. You just have to be careful you don't overdue the magic and that you are exact in your rune placements. All it takes is an extra line or motion and you could have a completely different solvent that ruins everything."

Severus stared at her for several moments with his head cocked to the side as he studied her and allowed her words to roll around in his mind for a bit. This was an aspect of potions he had never been able to study. He'd heard of this theory of course, but he'd never had the chance to see it in action or to find anyone who knew how to do it for that manner. "Show me," he instructed, having every intention of hovering over her to watch everything precisely.

"Oh, um… okay," she blinked, finding this to be an interesting situation. After all, the surly man had not been the friendliest around her since he'd returned. But she'd take the inquisitive version of him versus the accusatory version any day. And so for the next few hours she showed him some of the simpler potions you could add the ruins to like calming draughts and other elixirs. As she showed him the steps, she also allowed him to look over her notes and couldn't help but to rattle on excitedly about her research.

For the most part, he remained silent and observant, nodding here and there to show that he understood. He asked very few questions, seeming to grasp most of the concepts through his own pure intellect. For Hermione, it had just been nice to share with him her theories and what she'd learned that others either didn't care for or just weren't smart enough to understand.

That night after she'd cleaned the lab and they had parted ways, she couldn't help but smile at the progress they'd made. Perhaps having him around wouldn't be so terrible after all.

For someone who claimed to be intelligent, her optimism would make her into a fool.

* * *

 **A/N:** I actually wanted to go into the next day with this chapter, but then I realized it would have made this waaaaay too long. I hope you enjoyed! Next chappie we'll see Severus back to his usual nasty self! ;)


	9. Chapter 8

**The Empty Canvas**

Written By: Keshia K. Mansell

The places and characters depicted in this story are expressly © J. K. Rowling.

* * *

 **Comments:**

First of all, I wanted to thank everyone for their continued support. I've had a lot of very positive comments that I've really appreciated. I even had my first troll comment! Very entertaining indeed! Anyways, enjoy! ^^

* * *

 **Previously:**

 _For the most part, he remained silent and observant, nodding here and there to show that he understood. He asked very few questions, seeming to grasp most of the concepts through his own pure intellect. For Hermione, it had just been nice to share with him her theories and what she'd learned that others either didn't care for or just weren't smart enough to understand._

 _That night after she'd cleaned the lab and they had parted ways, she couldn't help but smile at the progress they'd made. Perhaps having him around wouldn't be so terrible after all._

 _For someone who claimed to be intelligent, her optimism would make her into a fool._

* * *

 **Chapter 8:**

The next day found Hermione in a rather chipper mood. Her first class of the day had been a double block with her 7th year N.E.W.T. students and she'd been very impressed with the results of a fairly complicated potion called _Angel's Trumpet Draught_ that allowed the drinker's intricate blood vessels to glow through their skin. This potion was traditionally used by healers who were trying to locate blood clots. If the potion was brewed incorrectly, the drinker would instead feel like their innards were on fire and could possibly boil to death due to the active ingredient found in thorn apples which if handled incorrectly could be extremely poisonous. For the most part, her students had been fairly successful. Only one of eight had made any fatal error.

Currently, she was sitting at her desk in the front of the room reading over the essays they'd turned in at the beginning of class. For her N.E.W.T. students, she expected the level of competence combined with the ability to broaden their conceptions of what was acceptable versus what could be improved. With this in mind, before each lesson, they were to study each potion before making it and write her a 36 inch essay on possible improvements or challenges they had found in regards to their text. She found herself fairly impressed with some of their thought-processes on the matter.

As she continued to pour over the well-written essays, using her grading pen to comment and make notes here and there in pristine red letters, the next class began to trickle in one by one. As the last of the students plopped down in their seat, a small hourglass on her desk began to vibrate on her desk signaling that it was time for class to begin. Taking a moment to neatly stack the small pile on the corner of her desk, she tapped her wand to the hourglass causing it to still and looked up to see her first years removing their notebooks and quills from their backpacks. This particular class was a mixture of Gryffindor and Slytherin. She smiled fondly at them, reminded of her own first year before standing.

"Good afternoon!" she greeted them with a smile. For the most part, they smiled back at her though she did receive a couple of sneers from the Slytherins. Ignoring them, she clasped her hands together and began to address them. "By now, I feel that you each have a nice grasp of what I expect for classroom safety as well as the importance of following procedures. With this in mind, today you will be brewing your first potion. I've picked something that I feel will be pretty fun and we'll even get to test them out afterwards… _if_ brewed correctly of course," she paused, pleased to see that she'd captured their attention. She turned away from them and flicked her wand at the blackboard causing a list of simple instructions to appear along with the ingredients. "You will each be brewing _Babbling Beverages_. The ingredients are in the cupboard where I've shown you previously. When you're finished, let me know and I will check them over. Begin."

The stampede of first years stood and immediately flurried over to where she stored her ingredients. She watched as they hoarded together in a chaos of outstretched arms and wiggling robes Scorpius Malfoy had made it to the cabinet first and she watched in amusement as he grabbed what he needed and turned around with a look of horror realizing that he would need to somehow make his way back through the crowd of shoving students to get to his desk. Eventually he moved forward with determination, hugging his ingredients tightly to his chest. He'd almost made it too when a fellow Slytherin named Florence Cattermore accidentally tripped him causing him to lose his grip.

" _Immobulus!_ " Hermione flicked her wand almost on impulse as the child and everything he'd been carrying froze midair. The students stopped and stared in wonder as with a second flick of her wand, Scorpius' posture righted itself and all of the contents flew back into his arms. "Careful, Mister Malfoy," she said with a kind smile as she pocketed her wand deep within her robes again.

"Thanks, Professor," the blond boy replied with a faint flush coloring his pale cheeks as he rushed back to his seat to get started. Hermione raised her brow at his behavior, but found herself pleased. Perhaps there was hope for the Malfoy family after all. Still, she would keep an eye on the boy just in case. She did remember that Draco had always been one to play his teacher's good side… but as she continued to watch him pensively she got the feeling that things might be different this time around.

Her thoughts were interrupted as a blur of dark brown and fire red sped past her to their seats. They stopped at the table next to the young Malfoy and deposited their things before consulting their notes on how to start. Rose Weasley sat at the far side of the table and scratched her head much in a way that reminded Hermione of Ron as she frantically began to crush her leeches as if there was no tomorrow. Albus on the other had took a different approach and seemed to be reading and re-reading everything before calmly using the edge of his knife to squish his leech as if it was a tube of toothpaste, hence extracting more juice from it.

Hermione couldn't help but feel proud of him as she watched him prepare all of his ingredients with an air of collectiveness about him. She had of course tried to tutor all of the Potter and Weasley clan, but most of the children either didn't have the patience or found the art of potion-brewing to be too dull. Only little Albus had taken keenly to her instruction and she had been more than pleased to take him under her wing. She expected great things from the child and truth be told, because she knew that he'd payed attention to her all of these years, she would probably grade him a little harder than the rest. Just to give him small nudges to push himself of course.

After the last student had been seated, she stood up and began to make her rounds. She didn't expect many problems with this potion as it only had six ingredients and normally only took 50 minutes to brew, however with first years she had come to expect the unexpected.

"Miss Bouché, make sure to sift the alihosty leaves from the simmer before adding your next ingredient or your potion will come out the wrong consistency," she chided after about twenty minutes. It wasn't a dire mistake, but a mistake all the same. She glided over to the young Gryffindor and showed her the best method to strain the potion without compromising it. As she was doing this, she heard several gasps behind her but before she could turn around to see what the problem was, familiar loud shouting cut through the dungeon with such force that she was somewhat startled by the sound.

" _POTTER! I knew your father was a Dunderhead, but at least he didn't lack common sense on the FIRST potion of the year! Do you have any idea what could have happened if I'd have allowed you to add that armadillo bile!? The board says COUNTERCLOCKWISE, does it not? Well, boy!?_ " Snape practically spat at the child as his translucent form loomed over him menacingly.

The scene was so nostalgic that Hermione found herself blinking stupidly at the display as if she had been hit by a _confundus_ charm. She couldn't help but remember what it was like back when she was that age watching helplessly as the dour man shouted at Harry. This seemed to knock her back into shape as she narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth to speak. What she was not expecting was for someone to beat her to it.

"Leave him alone, Professor. He didn't do anything wrong," the strong voice of the young Malfoy boy dared to challenge the man. Snape sneered at the boy's indignance and was about to retort when the child had the audacity to interrupt him again. "My father told me that you were a brilliant man, Professor. Surely an accident by a first year isn't too much for you? This is our first potion we've been allowed to make. Leave him alone." The last part of the boy's sentence was almost in staccato as he took one step to move between the apparition and the now slightly trembling Gryffindor and raised his brow as if daring the ghostly teacher to make his move.

"Of all the check!" Snape growled, his aura starting to flash that unforgiving red he'd come to associate with extreme anger. Was this how Granger ran her classroom? Had these little brats no respect!? He began to advance on them in a swooping motion, a tactic he had used several times when he'd been alive to evoke fear and respect when another shout entered the fray halting him in his tracks.

 _"Severus Snape!"_ Hermione shrieked at him, marching right up to them as she finally regained herself. "This is _my_ classroom and I absolutely refuse to let you talk to _my_ students this way! _What the hell is wrong with you!?"_ she shouted, barely registering the chorus of gasps at her choice of words. All of the students were completely enamored with the fight between these two adults. Most of them knew about Professor Snape's legendary temper, but never would they have imagined someone standing up to him in such a way.

"Wrong!? What do you mean what's wrong?" he challenged her in obvious frustration. " _My_ problem, Miss Granger, is that _you_ obviously have no control over these miscreants! They'll never respect you if you keep smiling at them like you've just invited them for tea-time and dollies, you stupid girl! It's a disgrace! If I hadn't been here to stop the Potter brat in time he wou-"

 _SLAP!_

She'd reacted before she'd even thought about it. He had been completely demeaning and humiliating her in such a way that she hadn't been subject to in years. It was almost like with each word her vision had slowly grown red in anger. In fact, she didn't think she'd been this angry since her third year when she'd struck Malfoy much in the same way. There had been that one time she'd attacked Ron in the forest when he'd returned to her and Harry during their _horcrux_ hunt, but she preferred to never think about those dark times.

Her eyes widened in shock after the blow. The room was dead silent; not even a quill dropped as they stared at each other. Hermione's hand still tingled with an odd sensation that reminded her of cooling peppermint as her shock turned into confusion. Her hand hadn't went through him. _She had somehow managed to really slap Severus Snape._

At the same time, he stood rigidly frozen glaring at her. His hand very slowly rose to touch his aching cheek. Not only had she touched him, but he'd actually _felt_ it. What did this mean? As a ghosts, ever since he'd woken up the only things he had felt were numbness, tingling, and coldness. Her blow had been like being struck by a stinging fire and even now he could feel the slight throb of aftermath. His eyes narrowed at her in suspicion as they gazed at each other.

As if realizing she really _had_ hurt him, she made a move as if to touch him again. She'd meant the gesture in kind, but he'd apparently thought otherwise as he jerked away from her touch and bared his teeth at her viciously. "This _isn't_ over…" he warned her through gritted teeth before gliding backwards through a wall. As if to make a point, he'd carelessly passed through one of her students to get to his escape causing said student to shiver from the cold chill of his departure.

Seeing the child reminded Hermione that she had a classroom full of children who had seen everything. Frowning, she cleared her throat and looked around the room at them slightly unsettled by their awed stares. Shaking her head, she looked at the students in front of her. Rose appeared to be struggling with herself on whether or not to try and comfort her friend or stay where she was biting her lip nervously. Albus was still trembling slightly having not expected to be so thoroughly singled out like that and Scorpius still hadn't moved from his protective stance over the boy as he stared at the wall where Snape had disappeared as if expecting him to come back any moment.

"Stand down, Mister Malfoy," she sighed, rubbing the crease between her eyes as she tried to control her breathing, feeling a headache coming on. When the boy had relaxed slightly, she found it in herself to smile at him. "Twenty points to Slytherin for protecting a fellow student and taking steps in promoting house _unity_ ," she awarded, pleased to see the blonde's look of shock.

"Thank you, Professor," he said, "I was just doing what I felt was right. The only reason Potter was distracted was because I'd asked his opinion on my potion. My father told me to man-up to my mistakes," he said with a look of determination.

Hermione nodded her head, accepting the answer. "There's wisdom in your father's words. I'm sure your father would be proud of your maturity today," she complimented him, causing him to beam as she glanced at the others. "Due to today's… _distraction_ … today's grade will merely be for participation. If you are finished, you may bottle it up and I will take a look at it. Unfortunately we are out of time to test it, so your homework will be to write me 12 inches on the effects of the _Babbling Beverage_ and how it can be dangerous." She rolled her eyes at their chorus of groans and moved to stand at the front of her desk to watch them back up and clean there areas. It was at that point that she witnessed history as she noticed Albus move to approach Scorpius as he was placing his books in his backpack. Rose was close behind him as usual.

"Potter?" Scorpius questioned as he looked at him in confusion.

"It's Albus, actually," the messy haired raven replied automatically as he stuck his hand out to the other boy in a gesture of friendship. "Thanks for sticking up for me back there. I know you had your own reasons, but I appreciate it. Our fathers may not have liked each other much, but there's no reason for that to happen with us," he said with a shy smile.

Hermione watched as Scorpius stared at the other boy's hand in contemplation. To Hermione it was as if the roles had reversed. Now it was a Potter asking a Malfoy for friendship; something that could very well make history repeat itself or change everything completely.

Suddenly Scorpius nodded almost as if to himself and grasped the other's hand firmly in his own. "Well, _someone_ has to keep you Gryffindors in line. You lot wear your hearts on your sleeves and your brains on your fists," he smirked, tilting his head slightly in the direction of where their Professor was currently standing.

Albus just laughed and moved to introduce Scorpius to Rose whom he greeted with a casual 'Weasley' and a nod. Then they all grabbed their belongings and turned to leave. "Hurry, or we'll be late to class!"

Hermione just watched them with a bemused smile before plopping down at her desk and placing her head in her hands. Thank Merlin her next block was empty. She needed some time to think.


	10. Chapter 9

**The Empty Canvas**

Written By: Keshia K. Mansell

The places and characters depicted in this story are expressly © J. K. Rowling.

* * *

 **Previously:**

 _Hermione watched as Scorpius stared at the other boy's hand in contemplation. To Hermione it was as if the roles had reversed. Now it was a Potter asking a Malfoy for friendship; something that could very well make history repeat itself or change everything completely._

 _Suddenly Scorpius nodded almost as if to himself and grasped the other's hand firmly in his own. "Well, someone has to keep you Gryffindors in line. You lot wear your hearts on your sleeves and your brains on your fists," he smirked, tilting his head slightly in the direction of where their Professor was currently standing._

 _Albus just laughed and moved to introduce Scorpius to Rose whom he greeted with a casual 'Weasley' and a nod. Then they all grabbed their belongings and turned to leave. "Hurry, or we'll be late to class!"_

 _Hermione just watched them with a bemused smile before plopping down at her desk and placing her head in her hands. Thank Merlin her next block was empty. She needed some time to think._

* * *

 **Chapter 8:**

Later that night, Hermione could be found in her living quarters which was located through a secret passage hidden in her office. When she'd first taken her position as Potion's Mistress, she'd nearly died of a giggle-fit when she'd realized how this particular passage had been hidden. As cliché as it sounded, if she muttered the right password in front of one of her many bookcases, the shelves would suddenly rotate and give way to what would now be considered her livingroom. Minerva had been most disturbed by the young woman's reaction and was about to question her health when Hermione explained that this very method was used in several adaptations of Muggle horror films where the main antagonist would escape to his lair. More than once in the past, she'd wondered if the irony had been lost on Professor Snape during his rein in these very rooms. Bat of the dungeons indeed.

Hermione had made the most of her rooms however as she'd turned them from being horribly dark and daunting to warm and inviting. Her livingroom was fairly modest in size. Instead of painting it, she'd left the walls their natural gray-stony color. But like her office, nearly every wall was covered in bookshelves with anything from fiction to essays written by the most esteemed scholars. Only one wall was completely shelf free and that was the wall where her lovely stone fireplace was built, giving the room a lovely glow. On either side of it and on the mantle were more pictures of friends and family she held dear. In the middle of the room was a large comfy brown couch and a matching armchair with a large plush circular green rug beneath them that Molly Weasley had sewn herself.

Perhaps the most prominent feature of the room was not her belongings at all but the lovely portrait doorway that had been placed on the same wall as the fireplace. It had come as a welcome shock to everyone when the castle had somehow conjured it overnight. It oddly didn't look like a painting at all, but more like a stained glass work of art by design. In the center of the portrait stood Dobby the house elf, grinning widely under his long elfish nose as he tried balancing several hideous looking hats on top of his head and in each of his arms that towered several feet higher than himself. For some reason, he seemed to favor standing on one leg as he did this, his large eyes twinkling with mischief as he swayed to and fro like the leaning tower of Pisa. He appeared to be standing in a stone room, much like the one she was residing in, yet interestingly enough, there was an arched window behind him in the background where she could clearly make out the sea and what appeared to be Shell Cottage with seagulls circling overhead.

She'd nearly cried when she'd first seen it and had immediately invited Harry over to see his long lost friend. They'd had a good sob over some tea as they had each swapped stories and talked to the wayward elf. Though Hermione normally refused service from house elves (minus Kreacher whom she'd begrudgingly agreed would never change), she couldn't help but fall in love with the portrait and its inhabitant.

Later on, Minerva had explained to her that the castle must have realized that since Hermione was Head of Gryffindor, she would need fast access to get to her Lions when needed. Plus, it was always good to have additional eyes and ears on the halls to make sure all was well. Testing the theory she had been pleased to find that the portrait opened to a spacious tunnel with a stairway that spiraled steadily upwards. Its mate opened just portraits away from where the Fat Lady was perched giving her an easy route when needed.

On the right side of her livingroom was a stone archway that lead to a small kitchen that was fully stocked with various foods and dishes. She'd been surprised to find a stove oven attached to the counter as she hadn't thought that the previous Master had known how to cook, but accepted it all the same as she wanted to still maintain some of her old muggle habits. There was even a small table in the corner where she could relax and eat. The only thing she'd added to this room was one of her enchanted windows so that in the mornings she didn't eat with the rest of the staff, she would still get the sensation of looking out toward a bright sunny day.

But her absolute favorite feature of her quarters was definitely the master bedroom which was located behind a lovely carved iron door to the left of the livingroom. This was by far the largest bedroom that Hermione had ever had the pleasure of staying in. The room was dark, but intimate as it was decorated with a Cherrywood four-poster bed, a matching chifferobe, and a door that led to her personal bathroom. Instead of the bedding being the obnoxious Gryffindor red she'd become accustomed to as a student, it had been covered in dark blue satin sheets with black and silver embroidery along the edges in what appeared to be elven ruins. However, the best feature was along the far wall which was covered by a ginormous bay window that glowed an eerie green at night as she was able to look out beneath the surface of the Black Lake for what felt like miles. It was very soothing around bedtime and sometimes she found herself mesmerized as she would skip back and forth laughing as a Mermaid or two would come up to the glass and dance through the current for her.

Currently, Hermione found herself in her livingroom curled up on her couch in a comfy robe surrounded by various piles of thick and somewhat musty smelling books. It wasn't often that anyone bothered studying apparitions and why they were the way there were. Sure, every now and then a curious first year would take a gander at a page or two, but that usually quenched their wayward questions. It also didn't help that most of these books were written in such a way that they might have put Professor Binns to sleep with little effort. But alas, that was to be expected as unfortunately the wizarding world seemed to take them for granted and the only people who really had been enthusiastic about the subject had either been from the Renaissance period or had already crossed themselves before putting quill to parchment.

Hermione refused to let these issues sidetrack her, however. Her own thirst for knowledge was just as strong as it had ever been and questions did she have! After all she'd never heard of a ghost behaving quite like Professor Snape's had been. All of the ghosts she'd ever seen had always remained with their eerie stoic blue and if they did show emotion, it was either forced and unhuman (commonly seen with older ghosts like the Bloody Baron) or overly portrayed as if they were fighting to feel it (usually with younger ghosts like Moaning Myrtle who could still recall the details of their lives). But in none of these cases had the ghosts of Hogwarts ever displayed the passion that the Potion's Master was seemingly exerting. Never had the other ghosts actually _changed color_ when having a heated discussion or when particularly engrossed in whatever they were doing. And even crazier, he seemed to be able to perform both simple and complex magic as if it was second nature!

Even more, Hermione could find absolutely _nothing_ about a live person being able to touch one of these spirits, let alone _hurt_ them. As she continued to read, every now and then she'd flex the muscles of the hand she'd struck him with as she went over the scene over and over in her mind. There was no mistake that she had definitely felt his cool skin along with the slight texture that she often associated with a man who was just on the verge of needing a shade. Not visibly, but still the slight prickle had been there. She had felt the unnatural coolness of his aura collide with her own in an unnatural swirl. Her hand had tingled as if it had been engulfed into a minty solution that had nearly made her shiver. It had all been so fast and yet so real. There had even been the loud sound of impact!

So far, she had found many references on how if a spirit had enough concentrated energy they could move small things or even use certain utensils. Poltergeists could sometimes succeed in touching a person though usually it was very quick and at the most felt like the gentle caress of a finger (it was the intent that seemed to determine how unnatural or forceful the light touch would seem). She'd even red how some spirits that were unable to take on corporeal forms could make wind swirl or change the temperatures of rooms at will. But never did any of those things seem to come close to what she had witnessed so far. She just didn't get it. What made him so different?

Frustrated, she tossed the book she'd currently been reading into the rubbish pile and picked up a new book to try again. She was so deeply immersed in the contents of the next tome that she almost didn't hear when Dobby tried to get her attention.

"Miss Hermy! Professor Hermy, Ma'am!" The elf crooned, waving his arms wildly to get her attention. In the process, his woven hats went flying everywhere, one smacking him in the nose before falling ungracefully to the floor. Trying to regain his balance, his uncoordinated brightly socked feet nearly caused him to trip and smack his face against the invisible fourth wall of the canvas. " _Ooof!_ Missy 'Mione! You has a visitor, Ma'am!"

"Hm? Oh! Dobby!" she said, her eyes slightly glazed over from reading as she finally looked up at the spastic little elf. "Well, go on then. Who is it?" she encouraged with a smile.

"The youngest Potter boy, Ma'am," Dobby answered diligently, then paused with a vacant expression as if listening to something. Hermione had long since learned that this meant someone was talking to him in his other portrait. After a moment, he nodded then gave Hermione an enthusiastic look. "He says he's having troubles sleeping, Miss."

Hermione arched her brow, then shook her head with a small smile as she sat her book down and used her wand to banish them all to the other side of the room careful not to mix her neatly sorted piles. "Go ahead and send him down, Dobby," she assented. A moment later there was a timid knock on the other side and she stood. "Come in," she chimed.

"Hullo, Professor," Albus greeted with a shy smile as he stepped through the portrait and into the quarters. Behind him, Dobby could be seen scrambling around his portrait collecting hats as he hummed a song horribly off key. "Sorry to drop in like this," the young replica of his father ran his hand through his unruly locks with a blush.

"Nonsense, Alby!" Hermione said, shooing away his nervousness as she gave the boy a tight hug. "You've visited me here many times before with your father. I don't want you getting shy on me now just because I'm your official professor now! Behind closed doors, I'm still your Aunt 'Mione. Now, what seems to be the problem?" she asked as she ushered him over to the couch and sat with him. She gave a flick of her wand and two cups soared at them from the kitchen. One had tea for herself and the other had hot chocolate for him.

"Well…" he trailed off, taking a sip of his cocoa as he collected his thoughts. "I couldn't sleep. I just keep thinking about what happened earlier…" he trailed off with a frown as he thought back to the very potions class that he had no idea was also plaguing his Professor's mind.

Hermione gave a deep sigh as she observed the boy's troubled look. "Albus, what happened earlier wasn't your fault. It could have happened to anyone, really. I don't want you to think that just because Professor Snape was… _displeased_ , means I am as well. You and I have brewed together several times and I know that you're normally very careful." She watched as his frown deepened at her words and she cocked her head to the side pensively. "But that's not what's actually troubling you, is it?"

He shook his head no and set his half drank mug aside as he looked up at her earnestly. "I just don't get it, Aunt 'Mione," he began to confide in her. "Since I was little Dad has told me what a great man Professor Snape was. Yes, he told me that they hadn't gotten on and he was a tad prickly, but I didn't think he'd be so…"

"Stubborn, hotheaded, an arse?" Hermione supplied in amusement.

"Yeah, I guess so," Albus said with a laugh before his expression became serious again. "I've been following him; watching him really. I mean, I've heard so much about him. I'm _named_ after him after all. I guess I just wanted to meet him and learn from him I suppose. I mean, this is probably the only opportunity I'll ever get to see my namesake in action, isn't it? But I think so far all I've done is annoy him. He's caught me several times when I've tried to approach him and wasn't very nice to me. But after today, I think I really blew it," Albus said, his shoulder slumping a bit.

"Oh, Albus," Hermione whispered as she wrapped the small boy in an understanding hug. In response, he buried his face into her robes so she wouldn't see as his face screwed up in the tall tale signs of wanting to cry. Albus had always been the more passionate of his siblings. Where James was loud and boisterous, Albus was shy and somewhat timid at first go. It was obvious to her that based on his father's stories, the boy had thought to look up to Severus as a role model and hopefully learn what had impressed his father so much about him. But he hadn't been prepared for the man's sour attitude or 'tough-love' method if it could be called that. Afterall, Albus really was just a child.

"There, there," she murmured, pulling him away a moment to wipe his tears as she gave him a warm smile. "Professor Snape can be a bit… forward. His bluntness is one of his many charms, you could say. But don't let his attitude fool you, he really does care. When he was my teacher, I remember that he really did take his job seriously when it came to the safety of his students. Did you know that in our third year when your late uncle Moony turned into a werewolf and came after us, even though Professor Snape had been _extremely_ angry at us, he'd still grabbed your Uncle Ron and I and forced us behind him. He protected us even though it was our fault that he'd been in the situation in the first place. He knew he could have died, I'm sure your father has told you he'd been no stranger to werewolf dangers before. But he still did what he thought was right. It's a shame that we never saw him for who he was with all the times he'd protected us over the years, but really I don't think he wanted us to know. He was a rather private man and he had his duties as a spy not to be to open with people," she said thoughtfully, then snickered, "especially not to Harry bloody Potter."

Albus gave her a bemused look at her musings, but said nothing as he listened to her diligently hoping she would continue. And continue she did.

"With Professor Snape, there is always a bigger picture. Only most people can't get passed his overbearing personality and foreboding stance to see it. Professor Snape doesn't hate you, Albus. In fact, he doesn't even really know who you are. All he knows is that you're a Potter and Potters have never really behaved around him. What you saw was a classic maneuver to distract you from the fact that he was trying to prevent you from possibly hurting yourself or others. Think about it."

Albus frowned, but took a moment to reflect over what had happened. It didn't take long before his eyes lit up in understanding. "If I'd added the next ingredient like I was about to, it would have fumigated the cauldron and I could have passed out," he said, thinking over all of the properties she'd quizzed him over in their past brewing sessions at home.

"Exactly," she nodded in approval. "In his own weird way, he was not only trying to teach you, but he was also trying to protect you. As you know potions can be very dangerous," she said, giving him a tone of warning. "Now, just because you got off on the wrong foot doesn't mean that you don't have a chance to show him that you are serious about your studies and are different from his past experiences. Just try to be patient. He's not the type of man that's used to an eleven year old that's not from his house looking up to him. Give him some space and all will be well.

"Thanks Aunt 'Mione!" he exclaimed, hugging her again. "You're the best!"

"I try," she laughed, untangling herself from him as she stood. "Now, are you ready to run along to bed?"

"Well… I was kind of hoping I could stay here if you don't mind. Just for the night." He blushed again and added, "I'm kind of homesick. Just don't tell James, I'll never hear the end of it!"

"Hn, like he has any room to talk," she snorted as she stood and transfigured her couch into a comfy bed for him. "He couldn't even make it through his first night when he came here. He begged me to let him stay and I did a few times in his first year. After that, he calmed down and got used to it. I haven't seen him since!"

They both shared a laugh as she bid him goodnight and left for her own bed.

Above them, high up in the rounded ceiling of the dungeon quarters floated the ghostly form of Severus Snape as he gazed as at the now sleeping child with his arms crossed. He'd listened to the entire conversation and had much to think about. He scowled at the light in which Hermione had painted him in for the child. It was entirely too heroic for his liking. And yet, he still found himself inexplicably humbled at the idea that the Potter brat seemed to truly want to look up to him. Perhaps, if he had time during his investigating he might be able to push the kid in the right direction. Wouldn't James Sr. role in his grave at the idea of a Potter taking after a Snape?

Perhaps the boy wasn't such a Dunderhead after all.

* * *

 **A/N:** OMG, so the Royals World Series Parade was awwwwwesome! I wasn't alive last time they won, but my co-workers told me that this turn out was waaaay bigger than it was in 1985. IT WAS INSANE! There was an estimated 800k people out there and I believe it. Luckily my building was right next to the parade route and I not only videotaped the whole thing, but I got excellent shots of just how unbelievably big the crowd was. I'm so proud of our team! Go Royals!


	11. Chapter 10

**The Empty Canvas**

Written By: Keshia K. Mansell

The places and characters depicted in this story are expressly © J. K. Rowling.

* * *

 **Previously:**

 _Above them, high up in the rounded ceiling of the dungeon quarters floated the ghostly form of Severus Snape as he gazed as at the now sleeping child with his arms crossed. He'd listened to the entire conversation and had much to think about. He scowled at the light in which Hermione had painted him in for the child. It was entirely too heroic for his liking. And yet, he still found himself inexplicably humbled at the idea that the Potter brat seemed to truly want to look up to him. Perhaps, if he had time during his investigating he might be able to push the kid in the right direction. Wouldn't James Sr. role in his grave at the idea of a Potter taking after a Snape?_

 _Perhaps the boy wasn't such a Dunderhead after all._

* * *

 **Chapter 10:**

"No running in the halls, boys!" Hermione shouted with a hint of a smile as she watched two boys racing toward her just outside of the Great Hall. It was now lunch time and for the most part, many of the students had already settled within and were jovially shoving food in their faces as they relaxed from an intense morning of academics.

"Sorry, Professor!" both boys cried out in unison as they skidded to a halt in front of her. She watched in amusement as Albus bent over in exertion, panting to catch his breath. Scorpius merely smirked and crossed his arms at his new friend.

"Lost again, Potter," he tutted in a haughty voice as he watched the other boy in satisfaction. "Best work on your stair stepping technique if you ever want a chance against me. Your physical fitness is sorely lacking," he teased.

"Well, I would have gotten here faster if you hadn't hexed me with that jelly legs curse!" he grumbled, then seemed to remember they were in the presence of a professor as his eyes widened and he blanched. "Um… I mean… if I hadn't tripped...?" he tried again, rubbing the back of his head with a sheepish look.

Hermione wasn't quite sure, but she almost thought she heard Scorpius mutter 'idiot' under his breath. She gave a small snort and fixed them in her practiced stern gaze. It wasn't quite as withering as Professor McGonagall's, but she figured it would do the trick. "Yes, yes, 'tripped' and 'hexed' are definitely the same thing," she said rolling her eyes. "I really ought to take points from you both, I suppose. But seeing as I know that neither of you had foul intentions I'll let it slide." At both of their excited looks she quickly added, "But just this once!"

Albus ignored her and gave her a quick hug. "Thanks Aunt 'Mione!" Then he turned to the blonde boy beside him. "See you later, Scorp. I gotta' find Rose!" he waived his goodbyes and then disappeared through the large doors.

Surprisingly, young Scorpius didn't follow right away. Instead he uncrossed his arms and his expression turned from smug to friendly in an easy transition that left her slightly off balanced. There was no way this kid could have been Draco Malfoy's son. Surely he was adopted. As if to prove her point, he spoke humbly to her. "Professor, I just wanted to thank you again for what you said a couple of days ago. I know you and my father were never friends and I'm glad to find that you treat me as you would any other student."

Hermione's eyes softened at the boy. Whether he was sincere or not, she couldn't tell. But he definitely seemed like he was. She placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled down at him. "I would never treat a student any differently regardless of where they come from, Mister Malfoy. We each chose our own path and I meant what I said. You're a good kid, and I'm sure I'll see great things from you," she told him honestly and he accepted her words with a grin of his own. She could tell he was like her in a way. When she'd been younger, she'd practically preened under compliments. She could see much of that in this child as well. "Now, go on and enjoy lunch with your friends," she said, shooing him toward the door gently.

"Alright, I'm going," he said as he heaved the large double doors open and slipped through. She just barely heard, "Bye, Professor!" just before the doors shut firmly behind him.

"That has to be the strangest thing I've ever seen," a masculine voice intoned behind her. "A Malfoy and a Potter friends. If memory serves correct, Potter now owes me ten galleons."

Hermione's eyebrows rose in surprise as she spun around to see the Malfoy patriarch walking toward her from the entrance. She'd been so busy speaking with Scorpius that she hadn't even heard him enter. "Mal-Mr. Malfoy!" she quickly corrected herself, nearly laughing at how easy it was to address him as if they were still children and how strange it was to call him such a formal title now. "We weren't expecting you," she said as she moved forward to greet him politely.

"No need to be so formal Granger," he smirked, not unkindly and he shook his head at her. "Calling me Mr. Malfoy reminds me too much of my father and I'd rather not go down that road if you don't mind," he said as he came to a stop in front of her. "Just as long as you don't call me the forbidding 'f' word, were in the good."

"Frustrating?" she joked.

"Ferret," he grimaced with a shudder before mock-glaring at her. She couldn't help but laugh in return. Luckily, he seemed to be gracing her with a sense of humor today as instead of getting angry he merely gave her a cheeky smile in return.

Draco Malfoy had done a lot of growing up over the years. The loss of his friend Crabbe and the re-imprisonment and eventual death of his father had really hit him hard after the war. Suddenly he'd found himself in charge of all the Malfoy assets and in need of somehow repairing his family's once unbreakable reputation. And on top of that, he'd had to take care of his heartbroken mother. It had been a rough road for him as he'd been forced to rethink everything he'd ever known. Harry Potter, his school nemesis had been the only thing between him, his mother, and a life sentence of imprisonment himself.

After Harry's testimony he'd been forced to give a sizable amount of the family fortune to charity as well as having to perform community service to help families who'd suffered the most during the war. The experience seemed to have humbled him a bit. A few years later he'd become reacquainted with an old schoolmate Astoria Greengrass and they'd married and settled down. He could still be very arrogant and every now and then was known to accidentally slip and say things that were less than savory, but for the most part he tried to be civil and had been successful at clearing their names. Currently he was even serving on the board of governors for the school and as far as she knew he hadn't abused the privilege.

Not much had changed about him looks wise. He was older now and like Hermione he had a few frown lines, but it didn't take away from his overall appearance. His hair was still the same light blonde-nearly white color it had always been though the cut was slightly different. He now kept it neatly trimmed short with his bangs only slightly longer in the front to add a bit of style. She also noted that he still wore the top designer in robes along with a crisp vest and tie beneath giving him a professional yet still semi-cool look. The only thing noticeably different to her was his eyes. Gone were the ignorant silver orbs that had always pierced her with such hate when they were younger. Instead, his eyes now held wisdom and perhaps a bit of vigilance. It suited him, really.

"So, how long has that been going on?" he prodded casual, jerking his head in the direction of where the two boys had previously stood.

"Oh, only a few days," she said with a shrug as she glanced in that direction, then returned her gaze to him. "Weirdly enough, it was fairly similar to how you'd originally propositioned Harry. Only the exact opposite."

"I'd imagine so," he said with a quirk of his brow. "Scorpius had written that he had a new friend, but never mentioned who. I suppose I understand now why he had reservations."

Misunderstanding his meaning, Hermione immediately took the defense as she furrowed her brows in disapproval. "Draco, surely you wouldn't prevent them from-?"

"What? No!" he interrupted her train of thought, holding up his hands to stop her. "I only meant that he knows that Potter and I never got on. No need to put your knickers in a twist. I'm not going to stop them from being friends or anything like that."

"Oh…" she finished lamely, suddenly feeling foolish for jumping to conclusions. Changing the subject quickly she addressed him again. "So what can I do for you today, Draco? Surely you didn't come here to chat with me of all people and I know the Governors have already had their inspections this semester."

"Yes they have," he agreed. "I'm actually not here on business today. It's more of a personal visit, really." At her questioning look he continued. "I don't need to see Scorpius though. From what I hear he's been doing fine… I was actually hoping to see my Godfather?"

"I'm sorry?" she said, completely thrown for a loop by his request.

"Severus," he supplied. "My son's letters said he had returned?"

Her mouth formed a slight 'o' and she nodded at him. "Yes, we were all quite surprised. No one's ever heard of something like this happening so long after someone's died. He should be in the dungeons. Do you want me to…?"

"No, Granger," he chuckled. "I think I can handle finding the dungeons on my own." He moved to walk passed her and was surprised when she placed a hand on his arm to stop him.

"I just wanted to let you know that you have a good kid, Draco," she told him honestly.

"Thanks," he said simply with a small smile before heading toward the stairwell. "See you around, Granger."

A short while later, Draco sighed as he was met with the familiar coolness of the dungeon halls. He closed his eyes a moment as a sense of nostalgia washed over him. He had experienced so many things in these old halls. He'd known his best times and his absolute worst times here. It was almost overwhelming for him even after all of these years.

"Draco," a familiar baritone rumbled through the silence sending shivers down his spine. "An unexpected surprise."

Slowly, Draco opened his eyes as he was met with the glowing form of his Godfather. "Severus," he greeted, standing his ground to the still intimidating figure. "I'd heard you were here," he said in a voice that seemed almost relieved.

"As much as I must say it is… _interesting_ to see you. I have no intentions of being gawked at by every former student or person I've ever met," he scowled and made a move to turn away. But something in Draco's next words made him stop dead in his tracks.

"Oh, I'm not here out of curiosity or that rot," Draco replied with a slight edge in his voice. "I'm here to find out what your sudden reentry into the world has to do with _this._ " He sneered, wrenching up his sleeve on his cloak to reveal his left forearm. Much too both men's chagrin, where there should have been a faded scar now held a very clear and almost irritated looking Dark Mark in all its original glory. "I think we should talk."

"Step into my office…"

* * *

 **A/N:** What could this mean?Please read, review, and fav! Thanks!


	12. Chapter 11

**The Empty Canvas**

Written By: Keshia K. Mansell

The places and characters depicted in this story are expressly © J. K. Rowling.

* * *

 **Comments:**

 **Snape's Witch:** Thanks for pointing that out. You're comment made me laugh out loud when I read my mistake. I'm pretty sure my boyfriend thought I'd gone around the bend! Anyways, thanks for reading!

* * *

 **Previously:**

 _"As much as I must say it is… interesting to see you. I have no intentions of being gawked at by every former student or person I've ever met," he scowled and made a move to turn away. But something in Draco's next words made him stop dead in his tracks._

 _"Oh, I'm not here out of curiosity or that rot," Draco replied with a slight edge in his voice. "I'm here to find out what your sudden reentry into the world has to do with this." He sneered, wrenching up his sleeve on his cloak to reveal his left forearm. Much too both men's chagrin, where there should have been a faded scar now held a very clear and almost irritated looking Dark Mark in all its original glory. "I think we should talk."_

 _"Step into my office…"_

* * *

 **Chapter 11:**

Draco hadn't quite been prepared for the changes Hermione had made to Severus' old office. He paused at the doorway and nearly blanched at the sight. Photographs and books were everywhere! And the walls were _painted_. Who painted stone walls? It was almost unethical. Fear was obviously not her tactic if her office was anything to go by.

Severus had apparently noticed the other man's sudden lack of attention as he his expression twisted into one of disgust. His aura flickered a moment as with a wave of his hand he banished the sight of the distracting belongs in the most incredible display of magic Draco had ever seen. Let alone from a ghost. The room glowed an eerie green for a moment and seemed to transform into what he assumed was a mirage of some sort as the office faded into what it had once been under the prickly professor's rein. Even the oddball potion's ingredients appeared in their proper place. Curious, Draco poked one of the beakers and was surprised to find that it did indeed move. Whatever Severus had done, they were _really_ in his office.

"It's not permanent," Severus assured him as he took his seat behind his familiar desk looking every bit as intimidating as he had when Draco was a child. "What you just felt was actually one of her silly little trinkets that just so happened to be in the same place."

"Ah," Draco said knowingly as he took a seat in the chair opposite of him. "But how can you do magic if you're merely an apparition?"

The question was met with stony silence combined with a raised eyebrow. Severus touched the tips of his fingers together in a contemplative gesture before speaking again in a chastising drawl. "I had thought you were here for specifics, Mr. Malfoy. Not a leisurely chat." He gave a pointed look at the blonde's left arm with a slight curl of his lip.

Draco pursed his lips. He did not like being talked to like a child and yet the other man had a point. He uncovered the fresh looking Dark Mark again and stared at it with a look of loathing. "It feels as if it's brand new again. Look, my skin is even irritated," he said not daring to touch the pink flesh that outlined the monstrosity.

Severus leaned forward to get a better look and made a move to reach out for Draco's arm. Much to his surprise, his hand simply went through the other as if they weren't on the same plane of existence. He sighed in frustration as he gazed at it. "This doesn't make sense," he muttered, though it was unclear to Draco on if he was talking about the mark or his inability to touch him.

"What about yours?" Draco asked, covering his arm again and trying not to shudder at the feeling of the fabric sliding against his raw flesh. "Surely since you died with the mark, you would have it too?" he questioned.

The ex-Potion's Master raised his brows in surprise. He hadn't even thought to look this whole time! Since he was clad in the robes he'd met his demise in along with the tall-tale signs of shimmery silver blood, he'd just assumed it was there. Never had he questioned it at all since his main focus had been on Granger and how it had been all her fault he'd been there to begin with.

"I'm not sure," he said honestly before extending his arm over the table. Both men leaned in curiously as Severus began to unbutton the many small buttons that ran all the way up the underside of his sleeve. Then he pushed up both that and the crisp white dress shirt sleeve that was beneath. Both men let out startled gasps at what was revealed.

" _Nothing?_ " Draco hissed in disbelief as he met Severus' bemused look. "How is that even possible? You're a ghost and _all_ ghosts appear as they did at the time of death. Did you somehow find a way to remove the mark before you died?"

Severus felt the intense need to roll his eyes at such an accusation, but took a deep breath and locked gazes with the other man instead. "I trust you know that if that was even an option I would have come to remove that deplorable brand from you and Cissy?" he ground out, narrowing his eyes. "I was under oath to protect you, Draco. Obviously if I had found a way to do that, I'd have been obligated to share that information with you too."

The young man's pale cheeks took on a pink flush as he slumped slightly in his chair, feeling ashamed he'd even suggested it. "I'm sorry," he muttered. It was a rarity for a Malfoy to apologize, but he'd always liked and respected his Godfather. He wasn't about to through all of that away over a stupid comment he'd made out of anger. "But what could this mean?"

"I'm not certain," Severus admitted, hiding the fact that he was still dazed by the revelation. His arm was bare! He'd taken the mark when he was in his late teens and had regretted it nearly every day since that stupid mistake and now in death he finally had his wish. Whatever he decided to do from here on out, he was doing as a _free_ man. There was no Dumbledore here to manipulate him and now there was no Dark Mark to dictate what people thought of him. It was a lot to take in. He returned his now stern gaze to Draco and spoke in what almost a business-like fashion. "Draco, if you feel anything strange or notice anything else odd about your Mark I want to hear about it immediately. There have been many strange things going on here since I've come back and now that your Mark is so clear we must prepare for the likely possibility that a Dark Lord supporter has put things into action that could seriously complicate things…" he trailed off, eyeing the other man's demeanor in concern.

At the mention of the Dark Lord, Draco had wearily placed his face in his hands and was now leaning heavily on the old desk. "I can't go through this again," he murmured. He stressfully rubbed at his face like a tired man who'd seen too much before sighing and giving his mentor an exasperated look. "I have so much on the line balancing on a mere thread… People are finally starting to accept our family into society again. Every day I fight the losing battle of trying to appease my mother to help her stay somewhat sane. If something happens, I don't want Astoria's name drug through the mud like mine will be as soon as people see that this… _disgrace_ has returned on my arm. What would I tell Scorpius? He understands some of it, but I'd never fully expect him to grasp why people will treat him differently if this comes to light. I can't do this to them, Severus. They mean too much to me."

"I know, Draco," Severus said in a softer tone that the younger probably hadn't ever heard before. He knew exactly what Draco was thinking. He'd had the same fears when his own Mark had returned all those years ago. It had driven and icy shard of horror through his chest. All of his hopes had died when he'd realized what it had all meant and he once again had found himself trapped between two masters. Only he had never had a family. Draco's situation was much worse in his opinion. He suddenly wished he had the ability to touch his Godson. If he could, he would have placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "For now, we must remain vigilant. As ridiculous as it sounds, I think you should go to Potter about this. He's head of the investigation they're holding over whatever is going on here and I know he would be too much of a Gryffindor to rat you out. His sense of duty would come first. But tell no one else, I mean it," he warned in a dark tone.

"Bloody Griffindors," Draco laughed. "A bleeding heart, that one. And I thought Granger was bad," he mused with a small smirk before nodding. "Fine, I'll inform Potter. It shouldn't be too difficult. Our sons are friends now apparently so I can start with light conversation before diving into business."

Severus nodded in approval. "I will do some more investigating around here myself. If you need to contact me you can either find me here or," he gave a disgusted look at his next words, "you can address an owl to Miss Granger. I doubt the ruddy things would give me a proper post."

"Probably not," Draco agreed in amusement, though his eyes still let Severus know that he was brooding. He then stood and cast a quick _finite_ as the room returned to its horribly cheery scholarly status. "Thank you for speaking with me, Severus. It's good to see you again," he said with a grim smile.

"Draco," Severus returned with a curt nod, also standing as he watched the man turn to leave. He carefully filed the contents of their conversation into the folds of his mind. First the stone had been found, then Helena's ghost had been attacked, and now this new development regarding the mark. Something fishy was going on and he would get to the bottom if it.

"Severus?" a voice called out from the hall.

He looked up with a start as the knob of the office door began to turn. Having no wishes to be bothered until he could contemplate these matters further, he closed his eyes as he willed himself to fade from sight. By the time Hermione entered the room, all traces of him were gone.

* * *

 **A/N:** Sorry, I know it's not a very long chapter. In the next chapter we'll see both Severus and Hermione in action as he confronts her for information! Please follow/fav/review!


	13. Chapter 12

**The Empty Canvas**

Written By: Keshia K. Mansell

The places and characters depicted in this story are expressly © J. K. Rowling.

* * *

 **Previously:**

 _"Draco," Severus returned with a curt nod, also standing as he watched the man turn to leave. He carefully filed the contents of their conversation into the folds of his mind. First the stone had been found, then Helena's ghost had been attacked, and now this new development regarding the mark. Something fishy was going on and he would get to the bottom if it._

 _"Severus?" a voice called out from the hall._

 _He looked up with a start as the knob of the office door began to turn. Having no wishes to be bothered until he could divulge into the matters further, he closed his eyes as he willed himself to fade from sight. By the time Hermione entered the room, all traces of him were gone._

* * *

 **Chapter 12:**

"Neville, I will never understand how you get yourself in these predicaments," Hermione sighed as she tugged her friend free from the last venomous tentacula vine before removing a vile of antidote from one of her many hidden pockets and pouring it down his throat. She watched as his pale cheeks turned from grayish-white back to a healthy pinkish complexion and shook her head at him with a wry smile.

"Thanks, Hermione!" he gasped, stretching his limbs to regain some feeling in them before smiling at her in embarrassment. "Sometimes the plants get a little overzealous when I go to feed them. He wasn't trying to hurt me, just got a little _too_ thankful is all," he said kindly, patting the offending plant lovingly on one of its few non-venomous bulbs.

"He?" she teased with a small laugh as she returned the partially empty vial back into the depths of her robes. "Well, next time tell your 'friends' to show their affections in a different way."

"Yes, ma'am," he mock-saluted her good-naturedly before dusting off his robes. Then he stood up straighter to appear more presentable for his friend. "What can I do for you, 'Mione?" he asked, now noticing an empty jar by her feet.

"Ah yes, I'd nearly forgotten," she said almost to herself as she picked back up her jar and looked at him pointedly. She was all business now. "Thanks to my _darling_ 5th years, all the fluxweed paste I made for the Hospital Wing is now mixed with glass shards," she snorted. "Bloody useless. I'd just finished mixing all of them last night too." She said sullenly.

"Well, if you'd just let the house el-" he started, but promptly silenced himself when he saw her glare. She might not hand out S.P.E.W. buttons anymore, but she was still very much against using house elves for practical means if she could do the job herself. She only begrudgingly accepted food from them as it was. "I'll, um, get those fluxweeds for you right away," he said, looking slightly flustered as he escaped to a friendlier corner of the greenhouse. She merely laughed at his retreating form and waited.

Sometime later she exited the green house with the large jar now full of the plants she'd need to rebrew into the healing paste. It was getting dark out now; the sun had already began to set for the day. As it did, it cast a dull pale light that barely lit the vast landscape of the castle grounds and caused the Black Lake to glow eerily in the twilight. It was quite lovely out. The fall winds had not yet come to rest at Hogwarts.

About half way down the path she paused as she noticed a figure standing near her favorite resting tree; his pale blue aura casing the tree to stand out on the banks like a bright beacon calling to her. She hesitated a moment as she looked out toward him. It had been at least a few weeks since she'd seen the professor's specter. It was not for lack of trying on her part either.

At first, she'd expected him to appear in her classroom as he always did to watch over and berate her students for their lack of care. But he never came. Then she'd tried asking Minerva and the other teachers if they'd seen him. But they never had. Next, she tried looking for him at all of the haunts she either felt he'd go to or had seen the other spirits. But he wasn't there. It was as if after his meeting with Malfoy, he suddenly had ceased to exist.

And now he was suddenly here.

This left her both uncomfortable and oddly relieved all at once. Her body seemed to agree with this logic because before she knew it she was walking swiftly toward him, still carrying her jar of fluxweed absentmindedly. She only stopped her advancement when he was a mere two feet in front of her. Never once did she break contact with his enraptured gaze.

For a while she stood there, merely staring at him. He looked the same as he had before. He wore the same robes with the same silver shimmering blood spatter. He even stood the way she remembered; fierce but confident as if everything was beneath him. And yet something was different. Before he had looked more inquiring like a dark detective searching for answers under a fine-toothed comb. But now… his jaw was set tensely on his features and the frown that marred his face suggested that there was a finality about him. Only the conclusion was obviously something he appeared to greatly dislike and this troubled her greatly.

Then as easily as it came, the spell was broken as he crossed his arms in impatience. "Well are you suddenly a mute, girl?" his deep velvety voice broke through the silence. Then all at once Hermione could hear the sounds of the crickets and trees come back to her. She could feel the weight of the forgotten jar that rested in her hands. She could smell the damp dew of the night air that caressed her nostrils.

"I thought you'd gone," she felt the words tumble from her lips before she had a chance to think them through. A slight flush of embarrassment colored her cheeks as she tried to recover from her fumble. "I m-mean, uh…" she trailed off dumbly at a loss for words. Somewhere in the back of her mind she scolded herself for allowing herself to look foolish in front of him yet again.

"Is that so, Miss Granger?" he said in an amused drawl as he raised his brow at her giving her a searching look before speaking again. He chose his words slowly as if speaking to a daft person. "I can assure you I'm very much here… However, I seem to require a moment of your time." The last syllables of his words were drawn out slightly as if he was possibly rethinking his plans now that she seemed so unfocused.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his behavior and shifted the jar in her hands to a more comfortable position. "Well, what is it you need? As you can see I'm quite busy. And for the last time, _no_ I still don't know what I had to do with bringing you back." This caused him to snort and eye her disdainfully.

"As usual, you've come to the wrong conclusion. As for your… _plants_ ,they can wait. What I have to say is much more important and I refuse to be sidetracked because of something you can have the elves do." She gave him a dirty look and was about to retort when he cut her off with his question. "What can you tell me about the Dark Lord's connection with Helena Ravenclaw?"

"Pardon?" she said, taken completely off guard by the question. Unconsciously she took a step back as thoughts and memories from the night of the final battle assaulted her mind. She frowned and swallowed uncomfortably as she tried to assess if he was serious. True to himself, there was no hint of false need. He really seemed to want to know. "I fail to see how this is relevant, Professor. Surely Professor Dumbledore would have told you?" she questioned, but when she saw a flash of pain in his normally hard gaze and his lips tighten into a severe line, she knew she'd made an error.

"You will find that Dumbledore did not always divulge information until he thought it was absolutely necessary," he said in a dark voice. "Your precious Potter was the perfect example, if you recall. Always putting that boy into danger and telling none of us why until the very last second. You can't imagine how it feels to know that someone you have sworn an oath to protect would become nothing but a sacrificial lamb in the end," he growled, his voice full of contempt. "Potter is very lucky things turned out the way they did…" he trailed off for a moment. "No, Dumbledore did not tell me what you three were up to and he certainly never mentioned anything that had to do with Ravenclaw."

As she listened to his words, she couldn't help but sigh as she recalled his situation. Of course he probably had no idea of what their project had been. Even if he was a master at occlumency it would have only taken one slip while in the throes of pain for Voldemort to have suddenly known their secret. It had already been lucky enough that he hadn't noticed his first horcruxes as they'd been destroyed. If anything had have tipped him off, the war would have been lost. Even now it was a closely guarded secret. Only the remaining Order members knew about their past existence. It was agreed by all that the public should never know lest some other fool with a dark superiority complex try to create one and the whole fiasco would start all over again. To those outside of the Order who remembered the famous "Golden Trio" on their search for the lost diadem, they were simply told that it was something Harry had wanted to use as a weapon against Voldemort that was never found. And so the legend continued to be a popular topic among young Ravenclaws in their common room.

"Do you… have you ever heard of a horcrux?" she asked timidly, biting her lip as she gazed at him. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he thought about it, then shook his head in answer. "Well, you sort of backhandedly know about them, I suppose… In the pensive memories Professor Dumbledore had told you that a piece of Voldemort," she ignored him when he flinched at the name, "was trapped inside of Harry and he'd have to be the one to destroy it. That piece of soul is a very nasty bit of dark magic that's referred to as a horcrux. It was Voldemort's secret to immortality."

"That's all very interesting, but what does this have to do with the diadem?" Severus asked impatiently, tapping his foot as he rested his back against the tree trunk. He felt that her explanation might be long-winded considering she was little more than a walking textbook so he decided to make himself comfortable.

"I'm getting to that," she assured him. "But first you should know the basics to understand why horcruxes are so horrible. To create a horcrux, you're required to do an unspeakable act; an eye for an eye so to speak. For every life there must be death and for this particular curse it must be forcibly taken. When Voldemort cast the killing spell at Harry he'd already killed Harry's parents and as you know, Harry had his mother's protection," Snape nodded here, assuring her that he remembered that part. "But when he cast the spell at Harry with pure hate in his heart, his motives were also to survive. As a result, it was not just a 'piece' of himself that attached to Harry that night, it was a fraction of his soul. And so long as it existed, Voldemort could not die and yet he wasn't really living per say. At least not fully. On the flip side, because a piece of Voldemort lived inside of Harry he too could not die or ever fully live. It's ironic when you think about it."

Severus was silent during her explanation of the horcrux that lived inside of Harry. He thought back to all the time he had wasted on Dumbledore's orders to teach the boy occlumency. Of course it hadn't worked. How could he have blocked his mind against something that was as much a part of himself as that dimmable scar? Severus respected Dumbledore and still thought of him as his mentor and even possible someone akin to a father to him, but things would have been so much easier had he not left behind so many riddles.

"So there were others then besides Potter," he stated rather than asked. He figured that she wouldn't be telling him this had she not been building up to it.

"Exactly," she nodded. "By the time he was through, he had split his soul seven times."

 _"Seven?"_ he gasped, standing up straight in disbelief. It was horrifying enough that he'd done it once let alone _seven_ times.

"Yes, though if you count Quirrell I'd honestly say eight," she nodded before beginning to list them off. "Let's see… there was Harry of course, the diary from second year, that ring Professor Dumbledore showed you, Nagini,"here he visibly shuddered, "Helga Hufflepuff's cup, Salazar Slytherin's locket, and lastly Ravenclaw's lost diadem."

"Merlin…" Severus mumbled as he resumed his leaning position against the tree, only slightly tenser than before. "So, I'm assuming that Helena's ghost helped him find the diadem originally?"

"Yes, she'd originally stolen it from her mother and hid it in the Forbidden Forrest. When Tom Riddle had approached her about it he'd easily charmed her and had promised her that he would destroy it, but instead he defiled it. It was originally his goal to have a horcrux for each house, you see because he considered Hogwarts his one true home."

"An interesting way to commemorate his 'home.'" Severus sneered.

"Indeed… During the Final Battle, Luna told us the story of the lost diadem. Harry found the Grey Lady and she reluctantly told him that it was in the Room of Requirement. By the time we found it Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle had followed us into the room and demanded that we hand the diadem over. All hell broke loose when Crabbe got the bright idea to summon _fiendfyre_. We were able to save Malfoy and Goyle… but Crabbe paid with his life. In the end, the fire was strong enough to destroy the diadem along with the horcrux." By the end of her tale, her legs were starting to get tired and she was unconsciously shifting from one leg to the other as she held on to her fluxweed containers.

Severus must have noticed her discomfort as he effortlessly lifted the jar from her grasp and levitated it beside them with a wave of his hand. "Come, Granger," he said simply as he began to guide her back to the castle. She followed with little complaint.

For the majority of the way they were silent as they thought over what had been discussed, though each for different reasons. Hermione was trying not to let the old images from the war she'd fought hard over the years to burry resurface. Many people had died that night including the man know walking beside her and each pale, bloody face she recalled sent her stomach turning. That night had been what nightmares had been made of. For Severus, his thoughts revolved more around the huge connection he had just made with her story versus the possible return of the Dark Lord. Neither of their thoughts were very reassuring.

"Are you going to tell me why you wanted to know?" Hermione asked quietly once they'd reached the great double doors. All was dark inside as now it was way past curfew so she had no reason to fear that they would be overheard.

"I can do better than that," he said as he led her down the stairs that fell to the dungeons. "I will show you," he said in an eerily quiet voice, "But not tonight. I can tell that this discussion has bothered you greatly."

She stopped suddenly and looked him straight in the eye. She was well aware that to him she probably appeared pale and emotionally weak from the conversation, but she was not about to let him think that she couldn't handle whatever it was that he wanted to show her. "Show me."

He eyed her cautiously and sighed as he tried to dissuade her. "Granger, there is no need to pretend in front of me. I'm not blind. I can see that night flashing before your eyes with each step. Don't forget that I've been through war twice. I more than anyone understand what it's like to relieve the worst of it."

She frowned as she took in his words and shook her head. "I can handle it," she assured him. "Let me drop this off in my classroom and I'll be right back," she told him before grabbing the still-levitating jar out of the air and disappearing down the corridor. When she returned, her cheeks had regained some of their color and she appeared more determined for whatever he was about to show her. "Shall we?" she asked him with a challenging look. Secretly, she was surprised he had waited for her at all.

"Fine," he agreed, "this way," he said in an authoritative voice as he motioned toward the old forgotten passage. A surprised look crossed her face before she hurried along after him. She'd honestly never paid this corridor much attention. Everyone knew where it lead, of course but no one live had ever bothered to make the journey. At least not that she knew. After a while, she began to understand why. The ghostly blue hue of the spirit fire have the halls a dangerous and creepy vibe and there was so much dust that she couldn't help bit cough and sneeze every now and then. It was cold too. Subconsciously, she found herself walking closer and closer to her late professor. Though he could offer her no warmth, he had always kept her safe before and she had no reason to doubt him now. His presence was comforting.

Soon they reached the large room with the portraits of the house ghosts and Severus came to a stop. Hermione quickly glanced around seeing that none of the other ghosts were around at the moment and returned her attention to him with a look of slight confusion.

"Things are not as they appear at Hogwarts, Miss Granger," Severus warned her in a serious tone when he had her full attention. "When Draco came to visit, he showed me something most disturbing. His dark mark has returned and I'd wager to say that it will be the same with the others."

"But that's _impossible!_ " Hermione gasped, "We destroyed all of the horcruxes. He'd have no way back!"

"And yet here I stand before you with no explanation at all as to how or why," she looked like she was about to interrupt him, so he continued. " _Think_ about it, Granger. Use that over-sized brain of yours! I spent over half of my life dedicated to bringing that maniac down and suddenly I'm back after _years_ of being gone? As far as that canvas is concerned it's almost as if the castle has predicted that something like this would eventually happen. Why else would I for some reason have powers the other spirits do not? They don't even consider me as one of them! I'm something entirely different and I think _he_ is too!" He suddenly ripped his sleeve open and bare his unblemished flesh to her. "This time I have no master. I am the only one who can figure this out!"

"But how do you know that?" she questioned in a voice that was just as dire as she grabbed his wrist and tried to talk some sense into him. "This could all be a coincidence. You can't possibly know all the answers yet. Think rationally! So the dark mark is back; it could mean anything! It might even just be a new fanatic follower!"

"But it's not, girl!" he exclaimed as he snatched his wrist from her grasp and pushed her through a doorway she hadn't noticed before. Stumbling through the threshold she let out a startled scream and covered her eyes from the sight in front of her. In just a matter of weeks the Grey Lady's situation had become much worse than when Severus had seen her last. Now there was a large pool of the tainted ectoplasm under her and her enraged features no longer resembled the beautiful specter she'd been before. The cracks along her features were now much more unstable to the point where it looked like chunks of her supernatural flesh had simply fallen out and her hair was missing in places. A terrible putrid smell hung thick in the air like rotting flesh as if he death was reoccurring freshly. There was no question now that she'd most likely never escape whatever trap this was.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God," Hermione was muttering as if it were a mantra and her eyes were wide in terror. At first it looked like she was about to stagger forward to touch what was left of Helena, but Severus remembered the Bloody Baron's warning and pulled her back. What surprised him the most was when she sorrowfully wrapped her arms around his waist and cried. "He can't be back. He can't…" her muffled sobs reached his ears. He felt that strange feeling of warmth again as he held her a moment, his expression reflecting the confusion that she was the only one who could touch him once more.

After a while he sighed and helped her from the room. For the most part she'd composed herself, but he could still hear her sniffles. In what seemed like a trance they made it through the dungeons and just outside her office door. "You should rest, Granger. We can talk with Minerva about this tomorrow," he assured her. "Take a calming draught and perhaps some dreamless sleep… I'd expect you'd have problems sleeping otherwise."

He stepped away from her slightly and watched as she hugged herself and then looked up at his with slightly wet, puffy eyes. "Will t-that happen to you?" she asked, looking as if she didn't really want to know the answer.

Unfortunately he had no assurances to give her. He knew that he'd stop at nothing to get to the bottom of whatever was happening even if it drove him back to beyond the veil. "I'm sorry, I can't give you the answer you want," his silken voice was almost gentle as he reached up and thumbed away a tear. Then as if realizing what he was doing he jerked his hand back and frowned. "Get some rest, Granger. It will all seem better in the morning." She watched as he suddenly turned away from her in a flurry of robes and disappeared through a far wall at the end of the corridor.

The next day she did indeed wake. But she didn't feel any better,

* * *

 **A/N:** Hey! Long time no see! This holiday season was super visit for me so I'm sorry that I wasn't able to post sooner. I hope everyone had a good holiday season and a Happy New year! Please Fav and Review!


	14. Chapter 13

**The Empty Canvas**

Written By: Keshia K. Mansell

The places and characters depicted in this story are expressly © J. K. Rowling.

* * *

 **Comments:**

 _Irezei:_ Thank you so much for your support! Yes, I must say I'm rather pleased with how the plot is moving along. One thing I promised myself when I was writing this was that I'd try my best to make sure that the timeline made sense because in previous stories I either built up too fast or didn't have a notable timeline at all. Oh yes, you can rest assured that there will be much more of our favorite couple to come!

 _DutchGirl01:_ Thank you!

 _Mynameisagent:_ Thank you for your kind words! I really love writing this story and I'm really enjoying creating the character development between Severus and Hermione. They are very fun characters to work with. I hope to keep you on your toes!

* * *

 **Previously:**

 _He stepped away from her slightly and watched as she hugged herself and then looked up at his with slightly wet, puffy eyes. "Will t-that happen to you?" she asked, looking as if she didn't really want to know the answer._

 _Unfortunately he had no assurances to give her. He knew that he'd stop at nothing to get to the bottom of whatever was happening even if it drove him back to beyond the veil. "I'm sorry, I can't give you the answer you want," his silken voice was almost gentle as he reached up and thumbed away a tear. Then as if realizing what he was doing he jerked his hand back and frowned. "Get some rest, Granger. It will all seem better in the morning." She watched as he suddenly turned away from her in a flurry of robes and disappeared through a far wall at the end of the corridor._

 _The next day she did indeed wake. But she didn't feel any better._

* * *

 **Chapter 13:**

 _'What was I thinking?'_ Severus thought to himself the next morning as he ran his hand through his hair in an agitated manner. Not only had he nearly brought Granger to the point of a mental meltdown, but he'd actually tried to _comfort_ her afterwards. Surely he was losing his touch.

She'd seemed so lost and frightened after not only hearing his words but seeing the proof of his seriousness. He'd known it had been a bad idea to take her down the Hall of Ghosts, but he'd done it anyway thinking it was for the best. Now he wasn't so sure about that. He recalled her large tear-filled amber eyes, the strange warmth that had radiated from her unwanted touch, her emotional words of worry toward him and shuddered. He wasn't used to these kinds of reactions from people, let alone _her_. No one had ever sought _him_ for comfort or had ever bothered to think of _his_ wellbeing in the past. It was all new to him and he wasn't sure he liked it.

To make matters worse, he'd agreed to meet her that morning in Minerva's office. She'd been there first, of course and had pierced him with those honey eyes the moment he'd made himself known. For the most part she'd acted her part and hadn't been anything but professional as she'd helped him recount all that they had discussed and seen. But he wasn't a fool; he'd caught her eyes lingering on his form more than once when she'd thought no one was looking. It was uncomfortable for him, to say the least.

When Minerva had dismissed them, she'd paused at the bottom of the stone steps and looked at him. He watched as she'd opened her mouth to say something, but seemed to think better of it and just gave him a small smile instead. Then he'd been even more bewildered when she'd suddenly walked away with a soft call of, "Have a good day, Professor."

Now he was aimlessly walking through the semi-crowded halls of the castle as he tried to think if his next move. It was a Saturday and most students had already finished their breakfasts so he was surrounded by meandering dunderheads with nothing better else to do than loiter and joke around with their little friends. His best bet would be just to ignore them and continue on as if they didn't exist.

But apparently someone else had other plans.

"Hey, you're back!" a youthful, excited voice called out behind him. _'Of course. Leave it to a Potter,_ ' he thought to himself with a wry smile. He could already hear the thundering footfalls echoing behind him as the child tried to catch up with him. Sighing, he stopped his movements and closed his eyes a moment as if steeling himself to deal with this minor annoyance. When he opened them again, he suddenly turned around in a sharp flurry of robes catching the small boy by surprise as he nearly fell over to stop himself. Panting, he looked up at the intimidating figure with a bright smile.

"Mr. Potter," Severus greeted blandly as he crossed his arms and tried to give his best hurry-up-already-and-leave-me-alone look. Weirdly, this seemed to only make the little boy smile brighter at him. That talk with Granger at the start of the year must have really affected the boy's resolve toward him.

"I told Scorpius you'd come back and he didn't believe me," Albus informed him as he stood up straight. "I was always told that ghosts can't leave if they have unfinished business," he said matter-of-factly.

"Sounds like you've been listening to too many fairytales from Mister Weasley," Severus said rolling his eyes. He watched closely as a flash of something similar to hurt flashed before the boy's eyes, but it was gone just as quick. It seemed that the child was going to try and take Granger's advice and not take his harsh tones so literally after all. Then Severus recalled that he had wanted to try and fix things with this child and gave him a searching look. "It seems that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot. I am not an easy man to get to know, Mister Potter. You father, I'm sure has told you many stories about me. While I'm not sure the context, I can tell you that we never quite got along."

Albus listened to his words in rapt attention. He hadn't expected this from the normally snarky professor and it made his tiny heart fill with hope that maybe this meant he could finally get to know his namesake and find out what made him so great. "I understand, Professor," he replied with a smile, then his small face took on an almost wistful look. "Dad told me it was one of his greatest regrets not seeing you for who you are. I don't want to make the same mistake now that I finally have the chance," he said honestly causing Severus' gaze to soften slightly.

"I can't say that I ever made it easy for anyone to know me, least of all your father. It would have been too dangerous… and perhaps too hard," he added in afterthought as his mind wandered back to his hate for Harry's father James and his mother Lilly. "In days of war and those days specifically the slightest mistake would have cost everything. But enough of that, what brings you here on a Saturday?" he asked curiously. They were currently on the second floor* which to Severus' knowledge a first year had no business being. In fact, those students who were now passing them through the hall seemed to be on their ways out of the castle to enjoy the day. Albus, however, was traveling in the opposite direction.

"Oh! Um… well, I guess you're not technically my professor so I suppose you wouldn't be able to remove house points?" he surmised, looking slightly nervous. When Severus simply arched his brow, the child laughed and lifted a corner of his robes slightly to reveal a small bottle of what looked like snake skins. "We're working on something to get back at James," he said simply as he tucked the bottle safely away again.

Severus looked at the boy in surprise. Harry Potter sure wouldn't have had the guts to flash assumed evidence to a teacher back in his day. Even more curious was that Albus had only trusted him to part of the secret, revealing information that was the least likely to get him into trouble not to mention avoiding why this floor specifically. It was as if he was testing the waters; a rather Slytherin tactic if he said so himself. "We?" he questioned, narrowing his eyes.

"Scorpius, Rose, and I," he clarified, studying his reactions closely with those piercing green eyes of his.

"Hn," Severus said with interest as he rubbed his chin a moment. "I shall have to supervise this 'revenge' I suppose," he said in a drawl, "After all, it wouldn't do if you and your little accomplices were to get hurt in the process, now would it? Ridding the evidence is key, of course. Am I correct in assuming that you're brewing a potion, Mister Potter?"

As he spoke, he watched an array of emotions pass over the boy. First was vigilance and suspicion, then down right shock, followed by confusion, and lastly just plain awe. If this child ever hoped to be his protégé, he'd definitely have to get a better grip on hiding his emotions. But luckily for him, Albus' approach had been so intriguing that the Potion's Master had decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. "Show me," he commanded softly after Albus had nodded in answer.

He followed the child silently as they walked against the flow of traffic. They gained a few strange looks, but as soon as he sneered at them they'd gasp and suddenly walk by much faster to avoid his well-known wrath. This seemed to work perfectly for Albus' mischief making; besides a couple looks of pity, they completely ignored him thinking he'd somehow already gotten in trouble. Soon their pace began to slow and he watched as the youngest Potter peeked back and forth to make sure no one was looking before he slipped in the _girls'_ lavatory.

"Not this place again," he muttered, stopping a moment after entering to take in his surroundings. He hated this bathroom and yet he always seemed to be returning to it. This bathroom had many unpleasant memories attached to it. Twenty six years ago there had been a troll that had tried attacking Miss Granger only to be foolishly thwarted by Potter and Weasley.** Twenty five years ago Miss Granger had made a very accurate _pollyjuice_ potion in this bathroom before very inaccurately adding a cat hair to it (something that still astounded him to this day both for her accomplishment and sheer stupidity). Twenty three years ago it was discovered that this bathroom harbored the legendary Chamber of Secrets which had almost caused three students and a fake professor to lose their lives. Twenty one years ago he'd nearly died thanks to Saint Potter sending his very own curse at Draco Malfoy and nearly killing him in the process. He shuddered to think what would have happened if his unbreakable vow to Narcissa had reacted to the horrible scene. The war would have turned out much differently; that much was certain.

Not much had changed about Myrtle's bathroom in the past nineteen years since he'd been gone. It was still dreadful and dull. He could hear a faint dripping from one of the faucets and unless he was mistaken, the famous Slytherin faucet still never worked. There were pools of water next to certain toilets thanks to blubbering ghost who normally occupied the place. Some of the tiles were cracked and looked like the house elves had given up on trying to clean them. Even though he was a spirit, he swore he could still smell the stagnant dampness that lingered in the room. No one ever bothered visiting these bathrooms even with the odd circumstances of its past thanks to how unpleasant it was.

On the far wall of the restrooms between the stalls he could see tow figures waiting for Albus' return. Young Scorpius Malfoy was leaning against the tiled wall with his arms crossed and a bored expression on his face. His pale, blue eyes were glazed over as if he'd been zoned out for quite some time. Rose Weasley was sitting on the floor cross-legged using her wand to poke a small Quidditch figure that looked suspiciously like a much older Victor Krum. Each time she poked it, the offended little man would ball its fist at her and curse at her in Bulgarian. Between them on the floor was a small already-bubbling cauldron that was omitting a shimmering purple vapor.

"Hey guys, I'm back!" Albus smiled as he startled them both from their stupor. Severus watched in amusement as their expressions changed from excited to positively horrified as they saw him standing calmly behind their friend.

"What's _he_ doing here?" Rose asked accusingly in such a way that Severus was strongly reminded of her father. He had to stop himself from glaring menacingly on reflex. Scorpius opted to stay the silent observer keeping to the background as he tried to decide whether the translucent professor's presence was a good thing or not. "He's just going to get us in trouble!"

"Nah. Chill out, Rose," he said before plopping down next to her. "Professor Snape is here to _help_ us," he grinned. Severus' eye twitched in irritation at the statement, but he didn't deny it as he slowly strode forward and looked down at the bubbling froth.

Scorpius continued to observe the other man for a few minutes. When Professor Snape didn't say anything else, he shrugged and lowered himself to the ground with his friends before removing a large tomb from the inside of his backpack. After quickly flipping to a certain page, he tapped it with his finger and looked up. "We're trying to replicate the _Serpens Squamis_ _Solution_. There were a couple of different versions, but most of them seemed unstable to me," he paused when Snape sent him a questioning look and smirked. "Father likes tinkering with potions when he's not doing business. He used to let me sit with him," he explained easily with a slightly arrogant tone. Then he continued, "at any rate, I think this version of the potion is the safest and it doesn't have any dangerous ingredients that might explode on us. We were thinking we could sneak it into James' shampoo."

"And might this book have come from the restricted section?" he asked, fixing them each under his powerful gaze. He let out a snort when he was met with three distinctly uncomfortable looks in return. "Let me take a look," he said simply and Scorpius handed him the book over Rose's head. He quickly glanced over the ingredient list and nodded as he looked over the steps. "Hm, so you've already added the chameleon blood to get the purple hue and now all you need to do is add lace wings, boomslang skin, powdered horn of the bicorn, and finally the skin of whatever kind of snake you want the person's skin to become." He read further and laughed out loud, nearly making poor Rose jump in fright. "The effects of this potion lasts a week? What on earth did Mister Potter do to deserve such a makeover?"

"He hasn't really taken kindly to Albus and I hanging out with Scorpius," Rose said with a frown as she glanced at Albus as if asking permission to tell the man more. At his nod she continued, "Yesterday at dinner he told Albus that if he continued to hang out with us he'd have his friends gang up on Scorpius for 'taking advantage of us' and then turn our robes Slytherin like the 'traitors we are,'" she repeated in disgust.

"So naturally," Albus continued with a smile, "we decided we'd beat him to it."

"What better way than to turn him into the snake he is?" Scorpius added with a scowl. "Ironic isn't it that what he hates what he'll resemble the most?"

Severus nodded in approval. "Yes, I think this will be very adequate punishment indeed," he paused and looked up a moment in thought. "I wonder… Ten points to Slytherin and five points each to Gryffindor!" When he felt the wards around the castle shift in the direction of the Great Hall he had a nearly gleeful spark in his usually malicious eyes. It was downright terrifying. "Good to know," he practically purred before shifting his eyes back to the children with a smirk. "How would you like it if this potion were to last a month?"

Three evil grins matched his in response.

Later that evening before dinner, no one paid attention as the Ghost of Professor Snape entered the kitchens. None of the house elves paid him any attention as he made his way to the dinner preparations for Gryffindor table and poured a special glass of pumpkin juice that would be charmed to only be drunk by one special student as he poured in a clear tasteless solution to the mix.

When the students began to enter the Great Hall and the feast began, Severus quietly leaned against the wall next to the Teacher's table with a bored expression on his face as he scanned the room and prepared to watch his entertainment for the night. He barely registered as Hermione sat down at the end of the table next to where he was standing and greeted him. "Professor, I hadn't expected to see you here!"

He glanced in her direction a moment before looking back at the students again, apparently forgetting his previous embarrassment that morning. "What can I say? There isn't much else to do around here." He missed her confused look as his lips suddenly quirked up when he saw his prey enter the room shortly after Albus and his friends had already been seated. As planned earlier, Albus and Rose sat far away from where young James would be sitting that night. Even Scorpius had made sure to sit well out of sight from the boy.

Hermione looked out toward the students trying to figure out what he was looking at with her brows furrowed. When she saw nothing she turned back to him and began to ask, "Severus, what are yo-"

 _"WHO DID THIS!?"_ a young voice screeched effectively silencing the entire hall. Everyone stared in the direction of Gryffindor table and gaped when they saw James Potter standing on his bench trying to get a good look at everyone as his once peach skin had morphed into quite convincing looking green scales. Severus mentally noted with pride that even his tongue appeared forked. Then there was thunderous laughter as the whole room pointed and jeered at the now fuming student.

"What in Merlin?" Hermione gasped, obviously appalled at the student body's antics. As Minerva and the other professor tried to calm everyone down, she looked back at Severus' impassive face and realized that his usually cold eyes were filled with mirth at James' misfortune. Remembering his behavior from before, she stood and smacked him boldly on the shoulder. " _Severus Snape!_ " she accused, "Did you know anything about this!?"

"I haven't the slightest idea of what you're talking about," he smirked. "Have a pleasant evening, Hermione," he said smoothly before fading into the wall and leaving her to fix the chaos he'd helped cause. She was so gob-smacked that he hadn't even realized he'd referred to her by name.

 _"That man!"_ she practically growled then stormed off to sort what had happened to her precious Gryffindors never noticing the three sly snickers of the true culprits.

* * *

*In the UK and USA versions of the book there is a discrepancy on the location of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. In the USA version it states that the bathroom is on the first floor which depends on your opinion of what the first floor is. From my understanding, the UK's "ground floor" is the same as the US's "1st floor" and the UK's "1nd floor" would be the US's "2nd floor". In an interview done with J.K. Rowling, she stated that Myrtle's bathroom was three floors below the Perfect's bathroom which is cited to be on the fifth floor. With this in mind, I'm just going to say it's on the 2nd floor and be done with it. I myself am from the US, but I'll go with the author's explanation which would naturally be more correct.

**When I was doing my research to figure out what floor this bathroom was on, I found several references that this is indeed the same bathroom according to the books. In the movie, obviously two different bathrooms were used. Is this important to this story? Not really. So if we're all wrong, we'll just be wrong then.

 **A/N:** I thought we could all use some humor in light of all that has happened. Rest in peace Alan Rickman! You will _always_ be in our hearts.


	15. Chapter 14

**The Empty Canvas**

Written By: Keshia K. Mansell

The places and characters depicted in this story are expressly © J. K. Rowling.

* * *

 **Comments:**

 _Irezei:_ Thank you so much for your support! Yes, I must say I'm rather pleased with how the plot is moving along. One thing I promised myself when I was writing this was that I'd try my best to make sure that the timeline made sense because in previous stories I either built up too fast or didn't have a notable timeline at all. Oh yes, you can rest assured that there will be much more of our favorite couple to come!

 _DutchGirl01:_ Thank you!

 _Mynameisagent:_ Thank you for your kind words! I really love writing this story and I'm really enjoying creating the character development between Severus and Hermione. They are very fun characters to work with. I hope to keep you on your toes!

 _Lady Countryrose:_ Thank you! I actually plan on becoming writer so I appreciate that.

* * *

 **Previously:**

 _"WHO DID THIS!?" a young voice screeched effectively silencing the entire hall. Everyone stared in the direction of Gryffindor table and gaped when they saw James Potter standing on his bench trying to get a good look at everyone as his once peach skin had morphed into quite convincing looking green scales. Severus mentally noted with pride that even his tongue appeared forked. Then there was thunderous laughter as the whole room pointed and jeered at the now fuming student._

 _"What in Merlin?" Hermione gasped, obviously appalled at the student body's antics. As Minerva and the other professor tried to calm everyone down, she looked back at Severus' impassive face and realized that his usually cold eyes were filled with mirth at James' misfortune. Remembering his behavior from before, she stood and smacked him boldly on the shoulder. "Severus Snape!" she accused, "Did you know anything about this!?"_

 _"I haven't the slightest idea of what you're talking about," he smirked. "Have a pleasant evening, Hermione," he said smoothly before fading into the wall and leaving her to fix the chaos he'd helped cause. She was so gob-smacked that he hadn't even realized he'd referred to her by name._

 _"That man!" she practically growled then stormed off to sort what had happened to her precious Gryffindors never noticing the three sly snickers of the true culprits._

* * *

 **Chapter 14:**

Hermione gave a dramatic sigh as she flopped down into the safety of her over-sized armchair. The three weeks had been hectic for her. At the start of her problems, of course, was the rather cunning prank on the eldest Potter. They never had found the culprit, though she found herself absolutely _convinced_ that Severus knew _exactly_ who had done it. She'd even pled her case to Minerva, so was so sure! But each time it was brought up, Severus simply gave her a look as if to say she was clearly daft and answer in that perfectly silken voice of his that he had no idea of what she was talking about. After the third time she'd tried confronting him about it, Minerva had firmly told her to drop it much to her chagrin and his amusement. According to the eldest witch the ghosts of Hogwarts could not lie to the Headmistress because the castle would not allow it. However, Hermione found herself doubting more and more that the brooding spirit could be bound to these rules. After all, he seemed immune to the most basic of things she'd ever learned about ghosts so why stop there?

As if reading her mind, he'd simply given her a devilish smirk when Minerva hadn't been looking. Oh, the nerve of that man!

As if to rub his smugness in her face he began to haunt her classes again like he had before his odd disappearance the previous month. She would catch him double checking cauldrons that she'd just left and muttering things under his breath to select students. There were already a few of them that she swore to Merlin he'd already dubbed as the next "Neville's."

On rare occasions she'd noticed him give advice to those select students he seemed to deem worthy. For the most part these seemed to be Slytherins, but she was pleased to note that Albus Potter had somehow worked his way onto that list. When he and his friends would enter the dungeons he would give the intimidating spirit a polite hello which was almost always greeted by a nod of approval (she was more than curious about how this came about, but hadn't had a chance to ask Albus yet).

However, more often than naught Severus would simply quietly observe from the far end of the classroom. At first, this had annoyed her to no end. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he would stare intensely at her as she lectured as if he was evaluating every word she uttered down to the annunciation. If she said something or added something particularly interesting he would cock his head to the side ever so slightly as if contemplating the new ideas and examples she'd perfected in her teaching methods over the years. He would frown when she mentioned things that had been newly discovered. And he would down right scowl if she said something he completely disagreed with. Luckily, he had yet to interrupt her. For the most part he just sat and listened.

Another problem the teaching staff had been dealing with was a mysterious shift in house points that seemed to occur in only a matter of days. Everything had been fine until one morning when everyone entered the Great Hall for breakfast to find that the Slytherins had gained 200 points and the rest of the houses seemed to have declined 50 each overnight much to the anger of the students and the bewilderment of the staff. Minerva had tried acting fast by temporarily suspending the Perfects and Head Boy and Girl's powers to award and deduct points, but was further bemused when the next day the Slytherins had even _more_ points awarded by that evening. It was almost as if someone was trying to pull one over on the Headmistress or maybe the points system was becoming faulty. But when professor Vector looked into the mathematical equations the castle used to fill the giant glass cylinders, she couldn't find anything wrong. Likewise, when Minerva made surprise checks to each classroom she couldn't find a single professor abusing their powers. She just couldn't understand it. There hadn't been a shift this dramatic in nearly twenty years! For now, the problem was still being monitored.

Now it was nearing the end of October and her students were grating on her nerves in other ways. Next Tuesday would be Halloween, so naturally the staff had decided that a dance would be held the Friday before. With this in mind, her older students were now too busy making googly eyes at one another or discussing costumes to pay attention to what they were putting in their potions causing the class to be more like a land mine than an educational environment. Hermione was all for kids having fun, but big events like these were taxing. She couldn't wait until it was all over so she could regain some normalcy.

A groan of contentment escaped her lips as she allowed herself to skink further into the seat cushions. She'd just come back from monitoring the dungeons. Luckily there hadn't been much activity tonight – only a couple of snogging seventh years she'd sent back to their dorms with lost house points and detentions. Not bad, all things considering.

"Meeeuuuuurrrrooowwww," Crookshanks crooned as he hopped into her lap, breaking her short-lived serenity. Hermione smiled adoringly and sat up slightly so she could give her old friend proper lovins. The old half-kneezle rubbed his head against her greedily and closed his luminous eyes in bliss.

"Oh, Crooksy," she laughed lightly as she continued to bathe him in attention. "I was wondering where you'd been." It was fairly normal for her familiar to disappear on short adventures for days at a time. Sometimes he'd roam the castle and other times he'd check out the grounds. Students from all the houses had at one point or another seen him sneaking into their common rooms for a peak. He would slink in and either trot the corridors or demand attention from the students before strutting away to his next location. Most of the castle found it amusing. Filch the caretaker did not. Many years ago, Filch had accused her familiar of stalking his precious Mrs. Norris. Hermione had always vehemently denied it, but when Mrs. Noris kept having litters of suspiciously large kittens with orange and black fur… Well, Hermione found it was just best to avoid Filch altogether. Crookshanks apparently thought much the same as he usually mysteriously vanished anytime the cranky caretaker was within earshot.

"Comfy are we?" she teased as she gave him a small kiss on his fuzzy head when he'd finally settled down and closed his eyes. "Hm, well it appears I'm stuck here then," she mused to herself as she continues to stroke his coarse fur. He answered with is sneeze and then resumed sleeping. She looked over to her table stand hoping that maybe she'd left a book there to read. Her eyes brightened as she realized she had and she carefully reached to grab it so she wouldn't disturb her now purring familiar.

"Oh!" she gasped in surprise as she realized it was Severus' journal. "I'd nearly forgotten about you," she whispered as she gently stroked the leather binding and turned the book over a few times in her hands with the upmost care as if it was an ancient artifact of great worth. She still had her reservations about reading it now that the original owner's spirit had returned. In fact, on multiple occasions she'd seriously contemplated giving it back to Minerva because she had no idea if the late professor would approve of her reading it and she certainly wasn't about to ask him. But for the life of her she could not shake her curiosity. She just _had_ to know.

She looked around the room nervously a moment feeling quite suddenly like a child in the restricted section of the library. "This is just silly. _Honestly_ ," she muttered to herself before taking a deep breath and opening the front cover. Her vision was met by a familiar spikey, yet elegant scrawl.

 _Property of Professor Severus T. Snape_

"Well, that wasn't so bad, now was it?" she mused tapping her finger on the page gently. She decided not to read immediately as she was curious about the length first. She bravely flicked through the pages wondering what she'd find deep within their depths. As she neared the middle she was impressed to note that however many pages passed by, she was no closer to the end of the book than she was when she'd got there. She waived her wand excitedly over the pages as they continued to turn and was delighted when she realized that there was a variation of an extension charm at work; most likely a version he'd concocted himself. "Fascinating," she mumbled, now knowing that this would be quite the read.

She gasped as her concentrating was interrupted by a thump on the other side of the room. Dobby had lost balance and tumbled over in his portrait sending hats flying all over his little canvas. This in turn had startled the sleeping Crookshanks who'd let out a hiss and jumped from Hermione's arms knocking the precious book from her fingers. _"No!"_ Hermione exclaimed, her reflexes not near fast enough to save it from its fall as she watched it land facedown with the pages sprawled open. "Bloody Cat!" she practically growled as she rescued her fallen treasure to find a pamphlet of some sort under it that had seemed to fall from its hiding place tucked between the pages. "What's this?" Hermione asked herself as she grabbed it to take a look.

Her eyes widened as she realized it was a newspaper article that featured a picture of a beautiful young woman with long flowing hair laughing at whoever was on the other side of the camera as she held up her baby son and kissed his cheek.

 _ **Lilly Potter – Mother of the Boy Who Lived**_

 _By: Athena Barshank_

 _As we reported yesterday He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has been vanquished by the most unlikely source. But as Harry Potter's legacy moves forward, let us take a look at who has been left behind in these sad, yet triumphant times._

 _Lilly Potter (nee Evans) was born on January 30_ _th_ _, 1960 in a quiet town near Cockworth. Not much is known about her life before joining the wizarding world as she came to us as a Muggleborn, but from the start he fellow students and professors knew she was special._

 _She attended Hogwarts from 1971-1978 after having been sorted to Gryfindor house. While at Hogwarts she became well recognized as she excelled in every subject shining the most in Transfiguration and Potions. Professor Horace Slughorn, Potions told us, "Oh, yes. Lilly was very special. She scored the highest in my class each year which is extraordinary for a muggleborn. I just knew she would go places! She was by far one of my most favorite students [...]"_

 _In fact, Lilly Potter was very active in her tutelage at Hogwarts. Our sources tell us that she was a member of the infamous "Slug Club" which appears to be a special club for students of high standard, president of the Transfiguration Club, Gryffindor Prefect, and even went on to become Head Girl of her year._

 _Sometime during her schooling, our heroine met and fell in love with the handsome James Potter of the well-known pureblood family. "It was like a love story really," a family friend tells us, "One moment the hated each other and the next they were inseparable." The Potter married in the Summer of 1978 and were blessed by a little miracle when Lilly found she was pregnant in Autumn of 1979. "They were ecstatic. We all knew they'd be the perfect family."_

 _Little did young Lilly know that when she gave birth to Harry James Potter on July 31_ _st_ _, 1980 she would change history. (See more on page 4.)_

Hermione flipped the article over, but apparently page four had either never been removed or it was long lost somewhere in time. She frowned and bit her lip, suddenly feeling sad. Hermione had been with Harry when he'd taken Snape's memories to the ministry to clear the man's name and honor his memory. She remembered very vividly seeing how much the man had bravely sacrificed due to his love for this very woman. Hermione gulped back a few tears as she gazed unseeingly from the article to the journal. What had started out as a thirst for knowledge now seemed like a severe intrusion of privacy. She was certain that Minerva had no idea that something like this would be hidden in these old pages.

Sniffing slightly, she opened the journal to the page she had marked when it fell and was about to return the article to its proper place when the title of the page caused her to pause and her eyes to widen. "No…" she trailed off. "It couldn't be." Ever since Severus had shown her the apparently dying ghost of the Gray Lady, during her free time Hermione had immersed herself into the familiar throws of research on anything and everything she could find on ghosts. Yet nothing she'd found could come close to explaining why Severus was different than the others or how she could help save Helena and hopefully prevent the same fate from happening to her former professor. She had nearly given up.

But staring at this page, she suddenly felt her hope swell again. She could have kissed Crookshanks for helping her find this. " _Vitae Sanctus – A Solution to Death…_ " she read out loud before suddenly feeling a flash of paranoia. Whatever was on this page was most likely not the kind of reading material that would be very welcome at a place like Hogwarts. She glanced around the empty room and then to the portrait of Dobby who was still running around his portrait trying to collect all of his knitted hats. As much as she loved Dobby, this portrait could easily report things to the rest of the castle. Just by the tittle, she highly doubted that this potion would be in anyway legal.

Making a quick decision, she quickly retreated to her bedroom and turned out the lights with the simple command of "Nox." Once she and Crookshanks were safely tucked into her bed, she took out the book again and flipped to the page that seemed to mesmerize her with its very existence. Just what had the Professor been researching and what did it have to do with Lilly's article? Luckily there were no portraits in her room (she found them too creepy to sleep around) so she would be free to study at her leisure here.

It turned out she'd been right in thinking that whatever she was about to read was going to be very illegal. It seemed that sometime after Lilly's death, Severus had been in denial and had become very determined to undo his one and only love's death. Hermione read in horrified fascination the many different entries about books he'd swiped from Malfoy Manor and even from Voldemort himself that involved either bringing people back from the dead or immortality. He seemed to think that if he looked hard enough he'd find something that had either been done in the past or he could reformulate to bring loved ones back from the dead. It turned out he had been extremely thorough.

Everything from potions to create inferi to horror stories he'd found about early potionier's being killed by their various trails and errors on the subject could be found. There were countless different spells and potions he'd found that all resulted negatively for both the creator and the intended. In fact, Hermione was very surprised the man had never heard of Horcruxes based on the terrible things that were written in these pages. A lot of these things required sacrifice and were definitely considered dark magic. This was Necromancy. Very illegal and very real necromancy. Hermione shuddered at the thought.

And yet at the bottom of each page Severus wrote his thoughts on his findings and seemed just as sickened by them as she was. She read his constant woes on how these things would never work how most of the corpses that successfully came back to life were deranged husks. She could easily read his battle with depression the more he wrote and how helpless he seemed with each entry. In the end he wrote that he would have to give up his crusade. He wa not willing to sacrifice everything for something that was distinctly not Lilly to come back. He was also not willing to face her disgust if he was successful for he knew that Lilly would never want him to kill and especially not for her. No, she'd never have forgiven him. In the end there were too many dead ends and nothing he could do about it so he gave up.

After she had read all of the entries in this part of the journal (which she noted was very deeply hidden amongst all of his other brilliant thoughts), she flipped back to the page that held her interest the most. The page about a potion called _Vitae Sanctus_ which literally was a potion meant transform spirit bodies back into flesh. Severus had dismissed this potion as being unhelpful to pursue due to the fact that Lilly had never became a ghost, though the idea of the potion in general seemed to interest him. She also noted that this is one of the very few potions that only required a blood sacrifice instead of a death to work. She read over the instructions curiously.

 ** _Inredients:_**

 _Blisterwort_

 _Blood of a family member (given willingly)_

 _Burial Soil (from the grave of the deceased)_

 _Ectoplasm (preferably from the affected)_

 _Petrified Scarab Beetles_

 _Phoenix Tears_

 _Unicorn Hair_

After that, long and very complicated instructions followed. It seemed that this potion had to be started on the harvest moon and each step had to be completed on each of the following full moon cycles for the next seven months afterwards. Not only did it all seem very tedious but as she looked over more of the details she realized that the instructions seemed to be very lacking and she also noticed that he hadn't been able to find any conclusive data on if the potion actually worked or not. Even so, this was the closest thing that she'd found to something that could possibly protect Severus from whatever had attacked Helena. She found it more than ironic that this information was coming from the man himself in something that was most likely long forgotten, but it was worth looking into nonetheless.

She licked her lips nervously and thought of the components involved in this potion. What was missing… what was missing….? "Ah!" she said suddenly as she reread over the ingredients several times. "The binding agent! It's missing the binding agent to make all of it stay together!" she said excitedly as she conjoured a quill and scribbled in some notes. Yes, she could definitely work with this and perhaps she could even add to it with her knowledge of ancient runes. It was a swing in the dark, but was better than nothing. Perhaps there was a way to save him yet.

Later that night she banished the journal to a safe place in her quarters and lay back against her pillows with her mind racing. This was crazy but it just might work…

Her last thoughts as her eyes closed and her breathing evened was that she wished she knew what exactly she was saving him from.

* * *

 **A/N:** OMG Finally! I haven't had time to write in like forever. I realize that this chapter is kind of a lot to take in, but it will all work out in the end. Hermione is kind of in an interesting position atm because she's starting to care for Severus, but seeing what happened to Helena has really made her realize how serious things could be. It's kind of like with the House Elf crusades, when she's passionate about something she goes hard. She has not definitively decided to do this potion yet, but like she reasoned this is a step in her research that she believes will be helpful in the future.

Next Chapter – Halloween! Please R&R.


End file.
